#so he’s just going to have to let some sass slide | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diarylogbook08 · 8 hours ago

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🎭 STRAYKIDS REACTION

Scenario: Them as your boyfriend, you trip over nothing, fall spectacularly or in the most dramatic way possible… in front of them. Chaos ensues. 8 very different responses to one clumsy moment. Pairing: Member x reader (GN) Genre: Fluff, crack Warnings: mild secondhand embarrassment, some teasing, soft comfort Taglist : @miracle-sol Want to be tagged in future Straykids content or any random updates from my brain’s weird corners? Slide into the comments or my DMs anytime! I promise I’m friendly—unless you bring up pineapple on pizza 🙎‍♀️ Requests : OPEN ✨click here to send yours. I might say no if it’s too wild for me, but I promise I’m nice about it. You can also check the 📜 Shipboard Code of Conduct section from my masterlist for my major no-go themes list. Spread love and good vibes only, please! 🫶

Chan

You are both walking peacefully side by side, when you suddenly loose your balance because you didn't look where you put your feets. Chan is quick to react. 🐺 Instant Dad Mode activated.

He would instantly grab you by the waist cuz he has crazy reflexes, will ask if you ok like, “Are you okay? Are you hurt??” while already checking your knees and everything while you try to catch your breath and process what just happened.

"Hey, you're ok ?" he would ask again softly (just to be sure), while looking you dead in the eyes with concern as hell, like a worried mom. You would only nodd as a response.

Does a full-on injury assessment. “Ankles? Knees? Pride??”

"Watch out your steps next time, love" he would add with a gentle smile, not letting his hands go off your waist. Hides his laughter poorly — he tries so hard not to laugh but his dimples betray him.

Rubs your back comfortingly while chuckling under his breath. Keeps checking if you're actually fine for the next hour. Starts watching where he walks more carefully, just in case you trip again.

Also Expect him to give you a piggyback ride if you so much as scrape your knee. Tries to stay calm, but inside he's panicking a bit.

Leeknow

Sees you trip and just stares blankly for 3 seconds like… did that really happen? Then blinks once. “…You good?”

He will laugh. Not loudly — just a smug smirk. Would 100% make fun of you “…you sure gravity doesn’t have a personal grudge against you?”, “Should I buy you knee pads?”, “Was the floor that attractive or were you just testing gravity?”

But if you’re actually hurt, he switches gears FAST—suddenly full of care and concern, mumbling “stupid uneven pavement.” And would help you while sending death glares at the ground like it personally offended him.

Even if you are fine, will secretly checks your elbow for scrapes while pretending he doesn’t care.

Later that day: massages your ankle in total silence like it’s no big deal. “Next time, look where you’re going… dummy” but he says it softer than usual 🥺

Also might tease you about it for months: “How’s the floor? Did it win?”, “You need a leash? Or a helmet?” Brings it up when you least expect it.

But would also secretly put a hand on your lower back while walking everytime “just in case you decide to dive again.” or offers a hand next time you walk anywhere but still with a little tease and sass — “Don’t want the sidewalk to win again your highness.”

Changbin

Panics like you were hit by a truck. Absolutely panicking even if you barely stumbled. “OH MY GOD—BABE?! ARE YOU HURT??” —volume: 200%.

He rushes over, trying to help you up but probably trips a little himself from the adrenaline. Panics first, asks questions later. “WHERE DOES IT HURT?? IS IT BROKEN??”

Will overreact. Like “Do we need a hospital? Ice pack?” Holds your hand tightly afterward and won’t stop asking if you’re okay for the next hour.

You: “I just tripped.” Him: “Okay but what if you broke your ankle??” Which makes you roll your eyes. You try to tell him you're fine. “You almost DIED,” he insists. “I just tripped, Binnie.” he repeats in a sacrastic whiny voice. “SAME THING!”

Once he confirms you’re okay, he calms down “Okay but next time I’ll just wrap you in bubble wrap. Problem solved.”

Spends the rest of the day walking extra close to you like a bodyguard.

Definitely tells the story to the other members like it was a near-death experience. Says to everyone that he “saved your life.”

Hyunjin

Laughs. Immediately. No shame. Then gasps dramatically, throws his hand over his chest like he just witnessed a tragic opera.

Drops to the ground beside you like you’re both in a rom-com. Cradles your face dramatically. “How dare the floor hurt my angel.” Starts fake crying if you say you’re fine just to keep the bit going

Helps you up with so much flourish it’s like a romantic movie. “My love, are you hurt? Say no more — I shall avenge the sidewalk.” Yes, he’s serious. Yes, it’s also a bit for show. But he genuinely cares.

Also acts like he just rescued you from a burning building. Stares deep into your eyes: “...Was it gravity… or fate that brought you to your knees?” Makes sure you’re not hurt, then says, “You fell for me, huh?”

Once he confirms you’re okay, he absolutely loses it. Cannot stop laughing once the drama fades. “Your fall was like... art. Should I paint it?” And teases you “My clumsy little muse.” – now it’s your permanent nickname.

Han

😮 Eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “OHHHHHHH nooooooOOOO—” while making zero moves to catch you.

Tries to catch you but ends up falling too. “Even when we fall, we fall together. That’s love.” Then Starts laughing

Helps you up while still giggling like a gremlin. “You fell like… so gracefully. Like a majestic flamingo.”

Offers to kiss the wound but accidentally bumps heads with you in the process.

Pokes fun at you every 5 minutes after. “Wanna hold my hand so you don’t fall in love with the ground again?” Says things like “Watch out for that vicious step over there 👀”

Makes up a dramatic story: “The floor was jealous of your beauty and ATTACKED.”

Will randomly bring up “that one time you tried to high-five the pavement”

Felix

Concerned Angel Mode. Soft gasp, soft voice. “Oh no, darling… are you okay?” Drops everything, sprints over, and lifts you up like you're royalty.

Turns into a golden retriever with anxiety. Presses your hand gently, checking for sprains like a real-life medic. “Does anything hurt? Do i need to call 911? Blink twice if you're in pain.”

Once he made sure you're okay, helps you up gently like you’re made of glass, dusts you off, and checks for any scratches. Flashes you his famous gummy smile while helping you up slowly “Want me to kiss it better?” 😚

Gently scolds you: “You need to be careful, sweetheart…” 😟 Lowkey wants to carry you everywhere after that.

Offers a piggyback ride for the rest of the day.

Tells the others not to make fun of you — then whispers “you did look kinda funny tho 🫣”

Will gives you a band-aid with a cartoon character on your scratches if you have some, and bakes cookies later as a “get well” snack — even if you didn’t get hurt.

Seungmin

Tries to hold in laughter with the most sarcastic concern ever. “Oh nooo… you’ve fallen… and can’t get up… tragic.”

Films it if possible. Sends it to the group chat with zero shame.

Finally comes over and says, “Was the floor too fast for you?” Helps you up, brushes you off, and pats your head like a puppy. Will also totally roasts you. “Do I need to enroll you in walking classes? I hear toddlers are great teachers.”

Will randomly say “watch your step” every 5 minutes for the rest of the day. Yet is secretly worried and subtly glances at you, making sure you don't have bruises or something.

Will not let you live it down, roasts you for the next 7-10 business days. “Should I install floor mats wherever you walk?”

Brings it up any time you act confident. “Remember when you lost a fight to the sidewalk?”

The type to nickname you “Gravity’s Favorite” for the rest of the week — or even for months.

I.N

Yelps and jumps toward you like a golden retriever pup in distress. “Nonononono—are you okay?? Are you dying??”

Fussing so much. Tries to help but ends up panicking and fumbling everything. Asks three times if you’re hurt before believing you. “You’re not seriously hurt, right? Tell me you’re okay.”

If you’re fine, he nervously laughs, because it was kinda funny but also scary. Also can’t stop teasing you gently after.

Low-key flustered because your clumsiness is cute, but also “Please be careful next time.”

Buys you bubble tea afterwards as an apology. Might also fffers his hoodie for comfort like it’s emotional first aid.

Tells his hyungs later like it’s the funniest story ever—does impressions and everything. Might also calls his mom later and tells her the story as well.

Will replay it in his head and giggle to himself for the next 3 days.

｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ♥ ｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ ♥ ｡･::･

🌀 In conclusion...

You tripped. Gravity disrespected you.

Stray Kids? Reacted like it was the season finale of a drama.

Tag yourself:

Are you Chan's concerned dad mode, Hyunjin’s Oscar-worthy collapse, or Lee Know’s judgmental slow blink?

Which reaction is your favorite? Reblog if you feel personally attacked by gravity sometimes. 💀✨

★彡 [ end transmission ] 彡★

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sparkletastic-cookiedough · 9 months ago

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Your tags gave me inspiration…

“Father.” Nico and Hazel marched into Hades throne room. If they weren’t his kids, Hades would’ve smited them. Only his family had the privilege to act like that.

And Percy Jackson, but that was a different situation. Killing Percy would be asking for war, and, more importantly, Nico would be sad that his dad attacked his friend.

Hades tried his best to look impassive. “Son. Daughter. What brings you to my domain?”

Nico looked Hades in the eyes. “Do I have another sibling?”

What.

“Where would you get such an idea? Did you forget the oath I made to not have anymore children?”

“Well, your brothers both broke the oath, so…” Hazel said.

“My brothers” Hades spat, “are fools. I have no living demigods but you two.”

Hazel turned to her brother. “Maybe he’s a different pantheon, then. I told you not to jump to conclusions.”

“Sorry, Father.” Nico said.

“You are forgiven, my son.”

“Maybe we should get Annabeth’s help on this. She and Percy are always the best to talk to about other pantheons.” Hazel said.

Hades frowned. If only his precious children would come to their father with their problems. Hades wanted to help them, give them fatherly guidance. But his children were running off to other demigods? Hades had a brief thought of smiting the child of Athena for keeping away what was rightfully his, before brushing it off. Nico would be sad.

“I might be able to offer my assistance.” Hades said casually.

“I don’t want to bother you, Father, I’m sure you’re very busy.” Nico said.

“You’re already here, and I’m offering.”

“It’s not that important” Nico dismissed.

“So unimportant you came marching down into my throne room demanding answers?” Hades raised his voice.

“I already apologized for that! Gods, you’re so-“

Hazel interrupted before Nico could insult the lord of the dead. “Nico found someone who claims to be the ghost king on the internet.”

“Son, you cannot believe everything you read on those forums” Hades explained as though Nico was five.

“There’s more than that, though.” Nico turned on his laptop and showed the messages to his father.

DeadTired: Are you my brother?

TheGhostKing: ??? I don’t think so??? Then again, I did discover a sibling by complete surprise once, so there’s always a chance.

DeadTired: I get that, same thing happened to me.

TheGhostKing: Dude, maybe we are siblings. Is your dad an incredibly powerful man with delusions of grandeur and a creepy basement?

DeadTired: you really shouldn’t insult my father like that.

TheGhostKing: and you’re half human too?

DeadTired: yep.

TheGhostKing: another sibling, dang. It’ll be helpful to have more people that can fight baddies with me. High school is tough when you have to save your town from the latest wack job.

DeadTired: and the adhd and dyslexia sucks too

TheGhostKing: how did you know???

DeadTired: runs in the family. Me and my sister have it. By the way, where are you training? I haven’t heard of any siblings in either camp, but with the wars I might’ve missed something.

TheGhostKing: what wars?

DeadTired: …oh no. How old are you, again?

TheGhostKing: 19

DeadTired: you’re still alive, and you haven’t been to camp??? Hold up, I need to have a talk with my dad.

TheGhostKing: k.

Hades read through the messages. On one hand, it could be a demigod from the Norse pantheon or something. On the other hand, Hades got a distinct feeling of dread.

“I might know who this is.” Hades said. “I’ll call him” Hades reached into his pockets and pulled out a rotary phone (he had very large pockets).

“Now while I’m more familiar with sending physical messages, I believe texting is more polite these days, yes?” Hades looked up at his son for confirmation. Nico nodded, stunned at his Dad’s absurd decision to use ancient technology. If Nico could adapt to the times, so could his dad.

It would at least be less ridiculous than this- Nico watched as the king of the underworld spun the dial on the phone wildly, typing a message in the most inconvenient way possible.

Nico didn’t even know it was possible to send a test using a rotary phone. It probably wasn’t- but Hades had magic and whatnot.

The sound of the dial echoing around Hades’ massive throne room was the only disturbance for several minutes. Nico didn’t dare leave- his dad would be passive aggressive about it later if he did.

Finally, Hades inputted the last of the numbers.

Hades smirked, proud of himself. Whether that was since Hades thought he was with the times, or if this was some elaborate ruse on his children, Nico would never know.

“I have invited someone for a chat. I suspect he may be the friend you met online. He should arrive shortly.”

“You’re being very polite.” Hazel noted. Indeed- usually the gods wouldn’t ask for people’s presence like that.

“You seem surprised. Am I not normally courteous to you mortals?” Hades spoke with a bit of an edge to his tone.

All the answers Nico could think of were the wrong ones. Sure, Nico was sassy at times, but he actually did have self preservation, unlike Percy.

“If only Grandfather was as polite as you. He could’ve asked permission first before trying to take over the world.” Hazel expertly defused the situation with a joke.

While yes, their grandfather was a touchy subject, mocking the guy seemed to be a dead-certain way of relieving tension at a family reunion.

Hades laughed, a deep thing that made the earth shake beneath them. “Perhaps,” he started, losing his speech briefly in laughter before collecting himself again, “he could’ve asked permission before eating me alive.”

Nico laughed at the joke, pretending it was hilarious instead of uncomfortable.

The laughter eventually died down.

“What now?” Nico asked.

“We wait. I have a game of Scrabble, if you’d like to play? Athena has been raving about board games lately, and I’d prefer to play with someone whose company I actually enjoy.”

“I’m dyslexic.”

“Right. I’m sure I have some game you like…”

Nico picked the least offensive option. His dad was far too competitive to play monopoly or uno, and he’d rather crawl through Tartarus again than play cards against humanity with his dad.

Hades and his children all sat down for a round of Candyland.

//-\\-//-\\

After hades was sent back to the Candy Cane forest for the third time, (Nico was definitely cheating) a someone knocked on the door.

It wasn’t just any door, it was the one Hades had told his children explicitly never to touch. Hazel had her theories as to where it led, and most of those were unpleasant in one way or another.

Hades immediately stood up, and answered the door.

As it opened, green smoke poured out. Hazel peeked behind the forbidden doorway- the space flickered between a dark red sky, complete black, and a strange expanse of green and purple.

It hurt Hazels eyes to look at the shifting landscape, so she instead turned her eyes to the stranger at the door. He appeared a few years older than Nico, but that didn’t mean much with the Gods regularly shifting their appearance. His dark hair and impish grin made him look a bit like Percy. Something about his eyes though reminded her of death, something Hazel was fairly familiar with.

“Sup?” Said the man in the doorway to Lord Hades, King of the Dead, God of the Underworld.

Hades bristled a bit at the lack of respect, yet he didn’t smite or threaten the doorway guy- which pointed to Doorway guy being either a god or someone with enough power that he can afford to disrespect the gods like that.

Another point where he’s similar to Percy.

“I thought Princess Dorethea was teaching you manners- like the proper way to address a king.”

“Yeah, but you know I don’t like those stuffy titles and whatnot. If I don’t have to use them, I don’t.”

“Hm.” Hades grunted. Hades actually liked titles quite a bit, they made him feel important. He also enjoyed formalities to an absurd degree. He was the kind of guy who wore three piece suits to bed.

There was also the fact that Nico and Hazel knew quite well: Hades was just as petty as the rest of the gods.

A wide smirk spread across Hades face. “Son, Daughter, I would like you to meet High King of the Infinite Realms,” the doorway stranger rolled his eyes. “Child of the Veil, Guardian of doorways,”

“That’s enough” Danny looked embarrassed, as though Hades was showing off his baby photos.

“Traverser of Timelines, Hero of Amity Park”

“Seriously Hades, we don’t need to be here all night!” The guy lept at Hades.

“Breaker of the Flaming Siren, Weilder of Fear, Bearer of Mortality,” Hades continued on, dodging the kids attempts to silence him in good nature.

The guy was quite speedy with good reflexes, but Hades was a god who could turn into shadows. Eventually, the guy tired himself out.

“Please, oh great god of death, end this suffering.” The guy said, before lying on the floor and accepting his fate.

Hades, pleased with having made someone else beg for mercy, finished the titles with a grand “Danny Phantom.”

Danny waved from his position on the floor.

“I’m Nico.” He introduced himself, rather than letting his dad do it. Nico knew he didn’t want Hades to list off titles, since his dad would sneak in titles like “cleaner of bathrooms”, complete with paperwork to back it up.

“Let me get this straight.” Said Hazel. “You’re… a half-immortal kid who’s gone on some cool missions, and your kind-of-parent is the fabric between life and death, and the space between realities?” She summarized, having paid attention, since someone had to.

“Pretty much, yeah. I was a normal kid until a lab accident, and now I’m half ghost. Evil ghosts tried to invade my town, so I beat them up. Then I beat the king of ghosts, and now I’m the king of ghosts.”

“Sweet” Nico said. “I also beat up a ghost king- different ghost king- and now am the ghost king. Hades is my dad.”

“Wait… you wouldn’t happen to be DeadTired, would you? Cause otherwise there are three people who are Ghost Kings, and I don’t think I can keep up with that.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Nico said.

“Nico freaked out and thought you were our sibling.” Hazel explained. “So he went to dad, and dad sent you a message.”

“Sweet. Well, now we know why there’s two ghost kings.” Danny said.

“How does this power structure thing work anyway?” Nico asked. “Like, if we both gave orders to a ghost, whose orders would the ghost have to follow?”

Danny laughed. “Ghosts? Following orders? I wish. Sure there might be laws and protocol, but they don’t matter that much when no one follows it.”

“They don’t just… obey your commands?”

“That would be so awesome if it worked. I could just command the ghosts to not attack people! But no, they have to go around fighting people, or trying to kill me, or feeding off human joy.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Sounds more like monsters than ghosts.” Hazel noted.

“Yes, your definitions of ‘Ghost’ are a bit different.” Hades responded. “Daniel”

“Don’t call me Daniel.”

“-actually fights something more similar to physical manifestations of primordials. It’s a bit complicated.” Hades explained.

“Dang. You must be pretty powerful then.” Nico stated with a bit of awe.

“Sure, I guess. But you kinda have to be when dozens of ghosts keep trying to attack you. Your dad is one of the only ones who doesn’t bother.”

“His realm interconnects kingdoms of the dead, thus I qualify for ghost citizenship.” Hades said.

“Do I qualify for ghost citizenship?” Nico asked. “Shoot, will I need to pay ghost taxes?”

“You can be tax exempt because I say so.” Danny informed Nico.

“Wonderful that you give tax exemption to my son but not me.” Hades grumbled.

“You’re a god of wealth, you can pay taxes.”

“Maybe I’ll use my son to commit tax fraud.” Hades contemplated.

“Dude.” Danny’s eyes flared an acidic green. “Don’t talk about tax evasion in front of the tax enforcers. That’s tax evasion 101. Thats like keying a policeman’s car. It’s stupid.”

“Don’t threaten me, boy.” Hades sneered. The ground began to shake.

“Or what? Wanna go up against the ghost who beat Pariah Dark?” The temperature dropped to a chill. Nico could see his own breath.

“Child, you have no idea what you’re up against. I have power beyond what you can fathom.”

“So did Undergrowth, and I showed him who was boss.”

“Speaking of wealth” Nico interrupted, “they’re opening preorders for the Mythomagic video game, and you technically abandoned me in a hotel for years, meaning you owe me like eighty birthday presents.”

Danny glared. Hades sighed, and handed over his credit card.

“Get out of my sight.” Hades commanded.

Nico grabbed Hazel and Danny’s hands and shadow traveled away.

Back on the surface, Nico stumbled to the ground.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize the gods like that.” Hazel suggested to Danny.

“I could’ve taken him.” Danny shrugged.

“Hazel” Nico groaned from the floor. “I want my laptop, but I don’t want to stand. Grab it for me?”

“You’re lucky you’re my brother.” She retrieved Nico’s gaming laptop.

“Shh, I’ve only played Candyland all day. I’m ready for some real games.”

“You got Doomed on there?” Danny asked.

Nico grinned, excited to have finally found a fellow gamer.

//-\\-//-\\

Nico couldn’t believe it.

How dare some completely mortal person take the username TheGhostKing on twitch before he could?

Look, the human probably thought they were being funny, and they didn’t know that there was an actual ghost king with a throne and everything. That ghost king being Nico DiAngelo, son of Hades.

It wasn’t fair. It had taken Leo ages to manage to get a streaming setup for Demigods that didn’t attract monsters. Nico had set up an account as quick as he could, ready to showcase his gaming prowess to the world. (Nico did spend decades in a casino after all. He was an amazing gamer).

And yet, the title that was rightfully Nico’s had been taken.

Nico sent a message to the user, ready to fight for his claim. This could only go well.

//-\\-//-\\

Danny Fenton had no idea who was messaging him about being the actual ghost king, but they were a liar.

After all, Danny was the ghost king, he had won the title through combat fair and square. It came with a few responsibilities, sure, but Pariah Dark had been sleeping on the job, and no disasters had happened.

So he meant no disrespect to DeadTired22, it was probably just some weird kid pulling a prank on him.

But some of the things DeadTired said were… interesting.

DeadTired: I am the ghost king, I have a throne and everything.

TheGhostKing: I know the actual ghost king, and he said you’re lying.

DeadTired: Dude, I know this is probably some joke to you. But you, a foolish human unaware of your place in the universe, shouldn’t joke about things beyond your comprehension, lest you anger the very forces you imitate.

TheGhostKing: Bold of you to assume I’m human.

DeadTired: Who are you then? Midas? There’s a difference between “Ghost that is a king” and “king of ghosts”. I am the second. We are not the same.

TheGhostKing: Eh, why not spill to strangers on the internet? It’s not like you actually know me irl…

TheGhostKing: I’m actually only half human.

DeadTired: …are you my brother?

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em1i2a3 · 9 days ago

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Soak Up The Sun

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and the team are on vacation in Mexico–Val’s treat for staying out of trouble–and Bob ends up getting a brutal sunburn after refusing to wear sunscreen.

Warnings: Just pure fluff here, Descriptions of Sunburns, Bob is in pain in this one (bros please wear SUNSCREEN) Bob and Reader are in an established relationship, Bob’s a bit sassy in this lol.

Author’s Note: In keeping up with the theme of being in scorching hot climates, I decided that this would be a great little blurb to do! I just found it to be a nice little thing to release and write as a little break from my Bob Floyd fic today. I loved writing this little thing and adored the little hint of sassy Bob I decided to throw in there cause the man does have some sass I think. I can’t wait to post my next thing tomorrow, I’m so excited for it! Cause on Friday we’ve got another crazy double update circuit and I cannot wait!

Word Count: 2,856

“Bob…” Your voice was low, a plea edged with exasperation as you leaned one hip against the dresser, sunscreen bottle in hand, “Please…You’re literally going to scorch. I forgot to reapply yesterday and I literally felt my skin cooking. I could’ve sworn I smelled burning flesh.”

From across the hotel room, Bob groaned like you were asking him to give up his freedom instead of just–god forbid–apply a thin layer of SPF. He was standing near the sliding door that led to the balcony, the golden morning sun caught the tousled edges of his damp light brown locks. His thin cover up–white linen, of course–hung open and loose over his chest, clinging slightly where his skin was still warm from the shower you both took. His swim trunks were a deep navy, already wrinkled from him sitting cross-legged on the bed earlier trying to fix the drawstrings so they were even.

His bare chest–pale in all it’s glory–was on full display, freckled and defenseless. And still, he had the audacity to shrug lazily and say “My skin is us–used to the sun. I’ll be fine Y/N.” You stared at him with wide eyes, absolutely aghast by what he had just said.

”Used to the sun?” You repeated, “Bob…My love…Light of my life…The only thing your skin is used to right now is fluorescent lighting and being covered by hoodies, long sleeved shirts, and sweaters year–round…This isn’t New York.” He scratched the back of his neck, his face turning a blush red from all the things you had just called him, clearly trying not to grin, and slowly you watched his eyes soften. It was the look he always gave to you when he wanted to entice you for a kiss–or for when he wanted to convince you to let him do what he wanted.

”Bob. Don’t give me that look. You’re really going to end up getting burned. Put the damn sunscreen on.” He raised his hands as if he was surrendering, but instead he took a step towards the hotel room door.

“Y/N…I’ll be fi–fine. I’m just going to be an hour or two…Maybe less.” You advanced a single step towards him,

“Robert.” You said sternly, which made his lips quirk up into a smile.

”Ou…Using my fu–full name now…We're getting serious hmm?” You squinted at him.

“You’re pushing it.” You warned, still following his movements. You kept your distance, calculating your angle. If you needed to tackle him, you’d need room for a solid launch. The carpet was thick, cushioned enough to minimize injury. Bob’s eyes flicked nervously to your stance, and you knew he saw it too–the calculation behind your silence. You saw his hand move to rest subtly on the doorknob behind him, fingers curling around it slowly.

“I will literally tackle you to the ground in the middle of the damn resort if you don’t protect your skin.” Your voice dropped into dangerous territory. Low. Even. With just enough heat to make his brow glisten.

Bob paused. His hand froze on the handle, knuckles paling.

“Va–Val won’t appreciate us getting into trouble here…” He started, slowly. “Remember sh–she booked this trip for the team so that we could unwind and relax… If we get shipped back to New York for–for stirring things up, Val isn’t going to be happy.”

You arched a brow, stalking closer.

“You know who she really won’t be happy with?” You asked, voice sharp as cracked ice. “You, if you come back looking like the color of Elmo, Bob.”

He groaned like your logic physically pained him. “I do–don’t burn! I tan.” You laughed, short and disbelieving, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Bob, I’ve only ever seen you in different shades of red. Crimson. Rose gold. That one time it was practically cherry Kool-Aid. I’ve never seen you tan. Ever.”

His hand finally gripped the doorknob. Turned it.

And then he had the audacity to smirk–smirk–with a crooked, sheepish sort of charm that softened the edges of his face and made your heart annoyingly ache just beneath your ribs.

“Th–That’s because you never fail to ma–make me blush…”

Your mouth opened, already halfway to a flustered retort–

But the door was already swinging.

“Sorry, I love you, I’ll se–see you in an hour!” he called out breathlessly, bolting into the hallway like a man running from the scene of a crime.

You stood there in stunned silence, sunscreen still clutched in your hand like a grenade with the pin pulled.

“BOB REYNOLDS–”

But it was too late, he was gone, and all you could hear was the hurried slap of bare feet on tile echoing down the corridor.

The door clicked shut gently behind him, like it didn’t just bear witness to your complete defeat, and you let out a dramatic groan, walking to the edge of the bed tossing down the sunscreen onto the thin comforter before dropping face-first into the mattress, climbing up to Bob’s side of the bed, smelling his aftershave–lemon, and mint–on the pillow that he had laid on the night before. You reached for your phone and opened the group chat.

You: If any of you bozos see Bob around please slather him in sunscreen, he’s going to come back looking like a piece of bacon if you don’t.

——————————

The hours had slipped by.

You were curled in the hammock strung up just outside the balcony doors, a paperback in one hand and a half-melted drink in the other. The sun above Mexico had climbed to its highest point, casting everything in that harsh, white-hot glare that made even the breeze feel like it passed through an oven first. Fortunately, you had stationed yourself smartly beneath the wide circle of your umbrella, skin protected, mind adrift in the haze of heat and fictional drama.

The quiet lull of your page-turning was broken by the snick of the hotel door unlocking.

You froze mid-sentence.

Then came the unmistakable shuffle of bare feet dragging across the carpet. Slow. Heavy. The rhythm of a man whose body had turned against him.

You glanced over your shoulder just as the glass door slid open again.

Bob stood there, blinking at the floor like it might shift under his feet. His white linen shirt was wrinkled and clinging in places, damp from sweat. His chest, his arms, even the tops of his cheeks—all a warm, flushed hue of pink that hadn’t been there when he’d left. His light brown curls stuck slightly to his forehead, limp from heat and water.

“See?” he murmured, voice low and sleepy. “I di–didn’t burn.”

You narrowed your eyes, slipping out of the hammock with a sigh and placing your book on the patio table. “You sound like you’re on the brink of heat stroke. Lay down on the bed. Let me get you some water.”

He shuffled past you like a man barely conscious, a wilted version of the smug idiot who’d bolted out this morning. You opened the mini fridge, pulled out one of the chilled water bottles, twisted the cap off–and turned just in time to catch the full, pathetic glory of Bob Reynolds trying to climb onto the bed like it was covered in spikes.

He was moving in slow motion–elbows bent weird, hips at a funny angle, legs dragging like they’d stopped cooperating.

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “You sure you’re not burned? Because you’re definitely doing the ‘I’m burned’ crawl onto that bed of ours.”

“No…” He breathed. His curls fell forward, sticking to his flushed forehead. “No, I’m fine. Just di–dizzy.”

You sighed through your nose as you crossed the room.

He flopped onto his back like it took everything in him, a soft huff of air escaping his lungs as he sank into the mattress. His arm flopped across his chest dramatically, and he looked up at you like a dying Victorian debutante.

You handed him the water wordlessly, and he chugged it in seconds, neck arched, throat working in big, frantic swallows. You watched with your hands on your hips.

“Yeah…” You muttered. “You’re either dehydrated or about to pass out from sun exposure.”

You reached out to touch his arm.

And jerked your hand back instantly.

“Jesus Christ, Bob…” You gasped. “You are burned! You’re boiling!”

He shook his head weakly, eyes fluttering closed as the empty water bottle rolled off his chest. “It’s no–not painful though.”

“Not yet!” You snapped, rubbing your fingertips against your shorts like the heat still clung to them. “Sunburns don’t always show up right away. It usually takes a bit of time. You goof…You’re probably going to blister.” Bob made a soft sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, curling in slightly on himself. The movement clearly hurt him–his jaw clenched, and his whole body flinched with it.

“I… I th–thought I’d just get a little color,” He said, eyes still closed, lips dry and cracked.

You sighed and sat beside him, pressing a hand gently to his forehead. Still way too hot. He didn’t protest your touch now–just blinked up at you, cheeks bright and flushed with the early burn.

“You’re gonna regret this in about an hour,” You muttered.

He reached for your hand sluggishly, curling his fingers around yours. “I al–already do…Sorry I didn’t listen.” You brushed his sweat-damp locks back from his forehead with your free hand, heart squeezing despite yourself. You let out a breath somewhere between a huff and a sigh, brushing your thumb along the back of his hand.

“You’re lucky I remembered to bring aloe vera with me…”

Bob cracked a faint smile, eyes still closed, his voice hoarse and wobbly.

“Be–Because you knew I’d be stubborn?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. “Exactly.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, leaning in slightly so he could hear the dry amusement under your exasperation. “Did we learn our lesson, though?”

He nodded against the pillow, light brown curls shifting ever so slightly with the movement. “Al–Always listen to you…”

“Damn right,” You muttered, softening, leaning forward to press a kiss between his flushed brows.

Bob hissed–just a tiny intake of breath–but still smiled underneath it.

“It’s that,” you murmured, brushing your lips over the same spot again, “And always wear sunscreen.” He let out a breathy, tired laugh that made your heart squeeze again. He sounded like he was trying to keep it together through the sheer force of exhaustion and heat.

“Will you help me put so–some of that aloe on now?” He asked, voice low, tentative. “I actually am starting to fe–feel like I’m on fire…And I need to cool off.”

You gave him one more soft kiss between the eyebrows and stood, letting go of his hand.

“Hang tight. I’m gonna go dig it out.”

He made a noise that might’ve been agreement or pain–it was hard to tell at this point.

You padded over to your side of the room and crouched beside your open suitcase, rifling through the tangle of rolled-up swimsuits, cover-ups, soft cotton shorts, and travel-sized chaos. Your fingers finally closed around the cool plastic bottle of aloe, the gel inside sloshing as you pulled it out with a triumphant sigh.

“Got it.”

You turned to face him again, twisting the cap open with one hand and watching as he barely lifted his head from the pillow.

“You’re just burned on your front, right?”

“Ye–Yeah…” He murmured. “I fell asleep on my back.” You paused mid-step.

“…You fell asleep?” He winced, realizing his admission. “So you’re saying this could’ve been even worse?” You added.

Bob made the smallest, most pathetic groan. “Bu–But it’s not worse…” He insisted weakly. “So can you pl–please come here and rub that on my skin now?”

Your lips twitched.

“I should make you wait,” You muttered under your breath. “Just for the drama of it.”

He whimpered. A real one. A sad, miserable little whine that came from deep in his chest.

You sighed again, crossing the room slowly and lowering yourself onto the bed beside him. Bob shifted slowly, groaning as he maneuvered himself upright in the most awkward half-sit of all time. He moved like every inch of him was coated in regret. Still, he reached for you, mumbling something unintelligible as he crawled over and finally laid the full weight of his upper body across your lap.

The heat of him hit you instantly. Not metaphorical heat. Actual radiating body heat–like you were holding a radiator in your lap. The warmth soaked through your thighs, making your skin damp almost instantly, but still…His weight settled into you in that familiar, grounding way. The way it always did.

You exhaled softly, brushing your fingers over his hair again before reaching for the aloe bottle.

With a low pop, you squeezed a generous glob into your hand. The gel was thick and cool, a soft translucent green that shimmered faintly in the sunlight pouring through the window. It smelled faintly of eucalyptus and cucumber–fresh and sharp and oddly calming. A scent meant for soothing. Healing.

You rubbed your palms together to warm it slightly and whispered, “Alright, solar boy… brace yourself.”

You leaned forward and gently pressed your hands to his chest.

His body tensed beneath your touch–muscles flexing instinctively beneath the coolness–before he let out a long, shuddering sigh that sounded like the air had been punched out of him.

“God,” he breathed, “it feels like a piece of ice…Th–that’s so good.”

You smiled softly, brushing your thumbs over the line of his collarbones as you slowly worked the gel into the angry pink flush of his skin.

His eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling against his cheeks. His body, normally all controlled strength and subtle restraint, was loose now. Boneless. Almost fragile.

“Ha–have I told you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my en–entire life,” he mumbled, voice drifting somewhere between delirium and sincerity, “and that I don’t deserve such a perfect person like you in my life?”

You snorted, amused despite yourself. “You technically tell me that every day without words.”

He hummed–a low, content sound from somewhere deep in his chest.

You grabbed another cool dollop of aloe and slowly slathered it along the tender skin of his stomach, careful not to press too hard. He flinched only slightly, but didn’t pull away–just let you touch him, soothe him, cool him.

“I love you so much…” He murmured, the words tumbling out like they’d been resting behind his teeth for hours. “And I’m glad that I have you.”

You looked down at him.

His eyes were still closed, face relaxed now. Less pained. His lips were parted slightly, pink and dry and still cracked from too much sun, too much pool water, too much stubborn Bob nonsense.

You bent down slowly, brushing your lips over his gently, careful not to hurt the delicate skin. He responded with the softest twitch of a smile, his hand reaching to weakly brush your thigh where it held his weight.

“I love you too,” You whispered. “And you’re the best thing that’s happened to me as well. Even if you don’t believe it.”

He let out a soft, almost bashful hum, the kind you’d only ever heard when it was just the two of you–quiet and slow and completely unguarded. His head dropped slightly against your stomach, and you felt him melt.

“You’re wa–warm by the way,” He grumbled sleepily.

“Because you turned me into a human heating pad.”

“Still nice…” He slurred, already fading.

You pressed one last kiss into his hairline, then shifted slightly so you could reach for more aloe without displacing him.

“Get some sleep,” You whispered, “You’ve got a long night of whining ahead of you.”

He didn’t answer.

But the weight of him against you was answer enough as he slowly got heavier and heavier against you as your hands continued to work in the aloe.

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n0tamused · 6 months ago

Note

How elves deal or even feel jealous? What/how easy is to make them jealous?

A/n: Hello, yes I can! You didn't specify which elves you wanted this for, so I just picked a few of the ones I thought would go nicely with this idea. Also, I am trying these different styles of hcs, so let me know if you prefer lenghtier headcanons or shorter ones like these? I'm trying to find some balance with requests and my ability to write them in time.

Contents: (all separate) Thranduil, Legolas, Lindir, Haldir, Glorfindel x GN! Reader. Jealousy hcs, not proof read lol

⋆𓄃Thranduil

-Thranduil can be quite jealous and, more so, protective over his beloved and he does not care to ever admit it. He is quite avoidant of his subjects and feels a bit shocked (or looks like it, he did expect you to point it out eventually tbh) when you point it out to him

-Would make sliding comments about your attention lingering too long on someone, or even something at times.

-A play of words is sure to ensue if you keep pressing him for his reasons, and throughout he never raises his voice or anything of that sort, he is rather calm and eventually you come to understand that he is enjoying this, both the banter and the attention. This can be sometimes flustering or frustrating when he begins to smirk and offer sass and teasing words.

-The Elven king has seldom ever expected to ‘fall into’ love like this, or to behave like this while loving someone, but even through his long years of living he is still learning some things.

-Thranduil is quite wary of others, especially outsiders even if they are his distant kin. So he may keep you away from meetings or tedious dinners with any delegates or visitors that may seem like ‘too much’ for you to be exposed to them.

-He is stubborn, so chances are it would take a long time for him to let up on his views, as he deems it all necessary for your protection and happiness

-But even he cannot deny that he does carry a great weight on his heart and consciousness, and long, late night conversions are not something rare with him. He enjoys them more than anything else because he feels more justified to be vulnerable when the rest of the world falls asleep. He is more open to physical touch as well, and he tells you his worries and his feelings clearly then.

🍃Legolas

-The prince of Mirkwood is still quite green in the area of emotions and how one deals with them, despite his years. But he is notably much softer in comparison to his father.

-He would find it odd that he feels this way and would hide it away from you for the longest time until he can bear it no longer. It is like poison to him

-Although you would be able to see it all happening and coming down on him with the way he stares out at nothing, sometimes at the people besides you, the way his lips pull into a deep carved frown and how his jaw sets, almost uncomfortably, even for an elf - especially for an elf. His shoulders are so tense you can put a table on him

-Once he expresses his feelings to you he does apologize as well, he doesn’t want you thinking that he doesn’t trust you or that he believes you’d go behind his back and take the offer of another heart - he truly can’t explain the feelings and where they stem from.

-It’s multiple things all at once - he wants you safe and happy, and the people around may not have the purest intentions, but at the same time he feels odd that you sometimes seem to be having much more fun with someone else than him. So there’s quite a lot to unpack with him, but he is not impatient or unwilling to learn.

♬Lindir

-Lindir is more prone to fits of jealousy that strike seemingly out of nowhere, he is quite dense with it too although not nearly as secretive as he would like himself to be. He may be quiet, but the face he stays quiet with is a completely different story..

-His jealousy does stem from a sense of insecurity in his own ability to be a good partner for you, it eats away at him at times and he can take up to saying witty responses to the individual/s that he perceives as sources of his feelings. He is never malicious of course, neither to you or them, as he understand these feelings can quickly turn to poison

-He may require some more support from you at times like these, and in private he feels utterly defeated in face of his own jealousy. He is not the one to openly ask for attention from you, but at times like these he may ask you questions that may reassure him again. Hold his face in your hands and just kiss the elf, that would be my advice, plainly delivered

-He would grow flustered at such actions, and he may even give you some sass for it, but he is never refusing your advances at pouring some more of your love on him

°˖➴Haldir

-The Marchwarden of Lorien is not the most open when it comes to his own emotions and it can be difficult to read his exact trail of thoughts at times. But jealousy is not foreign to Haldir, he knows how it feels and he has long since come to truly dislike(hate) it.

-It is unbecoming of his station and just of his own character in general. Nonetheless, this jealousy he feels holds its roots in worry for your safety rather than any kind of distrust of you, and it's greatly amplified by the distance between the two of you when he is away on duty.

-Haldir doesn’t act out on his jealousy, although he makes his opinion known if he agrees or disagrees with you on your choice of companions. If he is at home with you, he would also tag along with you, if you so desired or if he just really, really did not like the company you’re going to be with. He knows nearly everyone in Lorien, and so he knows who to be wary of. That is not to say anyone from there would be a liability when it comes to physical harm, he knows that much is less likely to happen, but when it comes to needs that are more from within, love, need for attention - then he is not so sure. He cannot read the minds of others, and everyone changes over time, even elves.

-His jealousy does lessen up when he is with you, as he is not as worried when he has you in his eye. If there is danger, Haldir would do whatever was in his power to eradicate the source of it.

-You may notice this particular mood on him by the stiffness of his jaw and the hard look he sometimes directs at no one in general, as if holding an internal monologue with himself over what he’s experiencing and feeling

☼Glorfindel

-The Slayer of Balrogs is not susceptible to jealousy, and he was never a jealous individual to begin with. And that’s also without mentioning that he trusts his partner as well, otherwise he would not be with someone he did not trust.

-After his re-embodiment he may come off as a little clingy - he stays with you for as long as he can, not letting any moment go to waste, even if you are an immortal being as he is. He leaves kisses on your hands and your forehead when no one is around to see, it is intimate and he simply wants you to know that you will always have his love and support

-He is also very clear in his communication with you, and trusts that you’ll tell him if anything is bothering you, although sometimes he does know to postpone telling you something if he believes it could put a strain on you.

-He is quite free spirited though and open minded at that, just a chill guy, the chillest on this list I dare say

-All in all.. 10/10, would recommend

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cyber333angel · 1 year ago

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DEALER!BARRY X SPOILED!READER X DEALER!RAFE <3

you get a little too “spoiled” when with your boyfriends — barry and rafe!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

it was the weekend, meaning it was time for shopping spree at the mall! strolling around the coach store of your favorite big building, you struggle to choose which bag your boyfriends would pay for. behind you they walked, talking while watching you happily trudge in front of them. “blueberry or cherry?” you ask holding them both up next to you, posing with them in your pink tracksuit . “you can get both of em mama.” barry tells you and rafe looks at him, “she doesn’t need both, you spoil her too much.” barry rolls his eyes, “s’not like we can’t afford it big bruh, if she wants it she can have it.” you squeal at his retort, and hug him. “thank you bear!” giving him an attack of kisses on his cheek. rafe sighs “that’s not the point. you know how bratty she gets when she thinks she can have anything she wants. don’t act surprised when she throws a tantrum cause she can’t have something.”

“mhm.” barry says walking to the other shelf of jewelry with you, looking back at rafe and stick your tongue at him and say “bleh!” he furrows his eyebrows and power-walks toward you, shrieking at his scariness, you run and hide behind barry.

after shopping, you arrive home at tannyhill. “thank you rafe!” giving him a kiss for funding half the shopping spree “thank you bear!” you give your other boyfriend a kiss for the other half of funding and take your bags up to your room, placing them in your walk in closet.

later on a friday, your sitting on the couch with rafe, watching tv while he scrolls through his phone. bored you say, “rafey can we go to the mall? I smelt this miss dior perfume last week and I really liked it but we never bought it.” he doesn’t look up from his phone. “no. we already went this week, no need to go for a while.” you pout at him, “no but I really need it! im going somewhere with-“ he cuts you off. “what i just say huh? no. getting so fuckin bratty this early in the morning..” you look at him with a vexed face and you mumble. “I bet barry would take me..so infuriating”

rafe looks up at you from his phone. “what’d you say?” trying to escape the scene, you get up and walk to the the kitchen telling him, “s’nothing!”

“what i fucking thought.” he says quietly but harsh enough for you to hear. barry comes home later at night finding rafe in the kitchen opening a can of beer. “yo country club.” he looks for you and doesn’t see you with rafe as you usually are at this time, he asks ” where’s our girl?” rafe chuckles “sleeping off the badass little attitude she had today.”

barry, confused on what attitude you could possibly have, “what’d she do?” sighing, rafe shoots him a look “she started acting like a fucking brat cause I told her she can’t go to the mall again as if we didn’t go this week already. it’s because of you she thinks she can always have her way.”

barry had always been the one to be the most lenient with you, he loved you and would do anything to protect his girl. and of course rafe loves you as well and would do more than anything for you, but someone had to keep you in check and it was always rafe. “well come talk to her with me then. we’ll set her straight.” you wake up to barry picking you up by the armpits, blinking awake and rubbing your eyes with your manicured nails , “mm hi bear..”

“hey princess, we gotta talk so let’s go downstairs and get something t’a eat alright?” he readjusts the satin bonnet sliding off your head, you nod at him still sleepy. gaining energy you sit on the island of your kitchen while barry fixes you some milk and and a grilled cheese. rafe stands in front of you, you roll your eyes following from the earlier argument. he jerks his head back from the sudden sass, “don’t roll your eyes at me, you know your manners.“ he looks back at barry, “ you-you see what im talking about right? she’s getting too fucking rude. what is it, you need some dick? what’s with the attitude?” you look at him with all seriousness in your face “I wanted to go to the mall rafe!” he breathes hard through his nose. “im fed up with you. barry go talk some sense into that girl before i bend her over the table i swear.” barry turns the stove off, finishing your grilled cheese and cuts it diagonally placing it next to you with a glass milk. “what’s going on going on sweet girl? I hear you throwing tantrums round’ this house, what’s that about?” you pout at him “rafes being mean t’me saying I can’t go shopping!”

“well you know if we tell you something your supposed to listen even if it’s something you don’t wanna hear.” he tilts his head at you “hm? now why don’t you gone head and apologize to polo boy over there f’me.” you look up at him and huff, turning your back to rafe sitting on the couch you shout “rafe could you come over here please!” he rises from his seat and walks over to you, “don’t yell in the fucking house. what is it? you gonna apologize for the way you been acting?” you nod, “mhm i just wanted to say m’sorry daddy. I didn’t mean to be a brat, you just get me nice things all the time, and i guess I got carried away! it won’t happen again, promise!” holding up your pinky finger to pinky promise your boyfriend, rafe chuckles, interlocking his pinky with yours. “thanks for the apology baby, your gonna be a good girl for the rest of the week right?” he says nodding his head waiting for you to agree, “mhm.”

barry interjects, “well I think our pretty girl deserves a reward for being a big girl today right?” and rafe bows his head in a agreeing motion diving in to kiss you deeply from the right side of your body. your other boyfriend on your left, slides his rough hands on your thighs. “open your legs f’me mama.” you split your legs apart revealing the wet spot on your pink laced panties and through your thin shorts. barry takes off your short sleeping pants as well as your panties, letting the shorts drop to the floor, he puts your pink lace into his pocket. bending down he kisses you up from your calfs, up to your knees and to your inner thighs. “you gone let me make you feel good angel?” you nod frantically through rafes kisses. barry hooks his biceps under your thighs to bring you now soaked cunt closer to his face. “you smell so fuckin sweet for daddy, love this pussy.” he spits on your bud, sucking it harshly, making you squirm around the table. you whimper into rafes mouth from the intensity of barry’s lapping. rafe lifts up your shirt exposing your breasts and starts to pinch your nipples, with a different hand he unbuckles his pants. he grabs your hand and pulls out his cock letting you stroke his length. whispering “fuck..” under his breath, you paw at him faster. you shiver when barry thrust his tongue into your wet cunt, he takes his tongue out and shoves two fingers in and the other hand rubbing furiously at your clit. you take the one hand you have left and grip at rafes shirt from the extreme stimulation of your cunt. “be a good girl and come for daddy.” your boyfriend below you says, finishing you off. you arch your back, “mmph!” stuttering into rafes mouth, he lets go of your moistened lips, his dick standing tall from your jerking at it. hiccuping you say “that felt so g-good daddy.. I want you in me now please!”

“course mama.” barry gets up and lifts you off the counter, guiding you to the couch in the living room, you take rafes hand and he follows behind you. barry unbuttons his pants and his cock springs out, average height but so unbelievably thick. he sits on the couch and pulls you close to him, you hover over him letting him position his dick into your slick cunt. sinking down he praises you, “goood girl. shit, you taking me so well angel.” you mewl at him “mm it’s so big daddy!” rafe watches the scene and stands in front of you, gripping your jaw to force you to look up at him. “you wanna make daddy feel good too right?” you nod frantically and he lets go of your face, holding up his cock with one hand he slaps it on your cheek and positions it into your mouth. he thrusts his cock into your mouth making you choke, gripping your neck to make your gullet feel tighter. behind you, barry’s fucking up into your cunt with wet sounds heard all around the living room. it makes your head spin and clench harder around his cock “you doing so well for us princess, see how being a good girl gets you a reward?” you can’t answer with your throat being used but you do agree. “this fucking mouth..god you feel so good.” choking, as rafe speeds up the pace, he releases his warm load deep into your throat, thrusting as deep as he can to make it stick. “you better swallow all of it sweetheart..shittt..” he takes his cock out your mouth looking at your face. he grabs you face again “stick out your tongue.” you do as your told, showing him your empty mouth, cum nowhere to be seen but in your stomach. “good girl.” your eyes are half lidded and you smile up at him, still getting pounded from behind. “f-fuck daddy your going too hard..” barry smacks your ass, a firm slap that makes you flinch “don’t say that shit.” you sob at the harsh tone. “m’sorryyy daddy, your just hitting it so deep!”

“yeah I know mama..im bout to finish.” he puts in his last brutal thrust. plap-plap-plap and you cry at the rapid pace, taking your hands and placing them on barry’s thighs, a weak attempt to slow him down. looking up at rafe he tells you to “move your fucking hands.” you flinch, removing them and instead you reach your hands out to rafe, interlocking your hands together. barry at his climax, nuzzles his dick deep into your pussy, burrowing his warm cum into your pussy. “mm felt so good..both make me feel so g-good, oh goddd!” twitching when barry pulls out your cunt, he gets up from under you. they both admire you as the cum leaks out from your abused pussy. “what a fucking view..” after they finish using you, rafe lifts you up “let’s get you cleaned up sweetheart, did so good.” barry cleans up the pillows knocked off from this whole affair and goes to the kitchen, putting your grilled cheese in the microwave for you to eat tomorrow. your boyfriends both clean you up in the tub, they wash you off and clean out the load still buried in your cunt. they change you into one of their shirts, placing you in the shared bed you lay between them. you mumble as you drift to sleep “bear and rafey..can I go shopping now?” they both chuckle at you still acting like spoiled brat. “sure sweet girl.” as you fall asleep in their arms.

#obx smut #rafe x reader <3 #barry x reader <3 #barry obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x black reader #barry is such a sweetiekins in this I love him and rafes mean ass #me when I don’t get my way #outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #barry outer banks

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romanreignsbae · 5 months ago

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Bloodline dating b!tchy reader:

Roman - Roman is known for having a short temper. Your smart mouth doesn’t help your case in any shape or form. The little slick comments you tend to sneak in here or there while Roman’s talking don’t go unnoticed. If your in a family or friend setting he'll keep his cool for the moment, but the second you get home best believe there's gonna be no attitude left in you by the time he's done you. While he'd never admit it you, he absolutely loves the sass and attitude you give, he finds it extremely attractive.

"Where did all that attitude go now huh?" Roman huffed out while pounding into your swollen cunt relentlessly. “M’ so so sorry daddy!” you pleaded. You could feel the way his balls were bruising the skin around your now puffy pussy. Shifting his angle Roman began brutally assaulting your g-spot causing you to scream out. “Please- please let me cum daddy!” you pleaded for mercy as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His hand was brought right to you cheek slapping it lightly, not once stopping the relentless abuse on your g-spot. “Hey hey, keep those pretty eyes on me.. and then maybe I’ll let you cum like the little slut you are.” Boy, was this gonna a be a long night..

Jey - Jey is a certified hothead, everyone knows this. So being disrespected by the person he loves most? That ain’t gonna slide with him. The two of you were sharing a nice dinner until it was suddenly ruined by your waiter completely messing up your meals, you already started the day off on the wrong side of the bed and immediately stormed out of the restaurant not even waiting for dinner to be served. Of course Jey followed behind you, and told you to cut it out, but you being your petty self refused to go back inside. So he drove you home, and even on the way back stopped to pick up some fast food for you, cause he insisted he didn’t want his girl to be hungry. Bur for some reason nothing would cut it for you and you continued rolling you eyes, sighing of boredom of him speaking, and even ignoring him.

By the time you got home he was completely done with having you behaving like this. “Getcho ass over here..” You moved up the stairs in a rush attempting to get away from the furious man who was standing at the bottom of the stairs. The sound of sneakers loudly moving up the stairs behind you. The heels you decided to wear weren’t helping your case in anyway. “Watch what I do with yo ass now,” Jey’s voice crept up as a large hand came across your neck tightening teasingly and another hand moved across your stomach protectively. His hardened crotch pressed up against your backside causing you to let out a sigh knowing what was coming next. You were in for it now.

Jimmy - Jimmy was never ever a serious guy. He could crack a joke in the darkest moments of your lives and still evoke a laugh out of you. He was laid back, cool and collected. But when you disrespected him…that was one of the few times you’ll ever see big Jim serious or upset. In one specific instance, Jimmy had decided he would take you out for a nice meal. Fancy restaurant and everything. You appreciated the idea heavily and began getting ready for the night out. But from there on out nothing was going your way. Your hair wasn’t cooperating, your makeup didn’t look right, and you couldn’t find anything nice to wear that satisfied you. In the car you were grumpy with Jimmy but he thought it would die down when you got your food. He just assumed you were hangry.

But he was terribly wrong. The whole time you rolled your eyes at him, ignored him, and avoided eye contact with him. You knew deep down he didn’t deserve it but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Quit it with your attitude. Now.” He ordered with anger slowing masking his face. “Fuck off,” you murmured while staring at the floor. “The fuck you say?” When the two of you got back into the car he wasted no time yanking you into the back seat and pulling your mini dress up, your ass exposed to the cool air in the car. Without warning he spanked you as hard as he could causing you to yelp out in pain. You could feel the burning sensation he was bringing upon you with his bare hand. “Count before I double the amount..” you counted to 15 when he finally let up on you. “Say sorry now.” he looked at your face that was covered in tears. “I’m sorry.” You said softly. He moved his hand up to your chin moving your face upward. “I’m sorry for having to do that. I love you.” He moved in to softly kiss you.

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navybrat817 · 11 months ago

Text

Sunrises and Sunsets

Pairing: Ranch Hand!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to watch a sunrise with you.

Word Count: Over 2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, tooth rotting sweetness, a bit of sass, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @bigtreefest requested for Ranch Hand!Bucky to either Go for a Swim (smut) or dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff - this won with my muse) with prompt #1 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You woke up before the alarm went off thanks to Bucky. He normally did his best not to disturb your slumber if you didn't have to get up right away, unless he wanted you and you would gladly forgo sleep for that. But the soft kisses he placed along your shoulder and neck weren't rushed or needy. In the darkness you reached for his hand and felt him smile against your skin when you took it. It made you smile, too, and your heart beat faster in your chest. Waking up beside him was a gift.

“Morning,” you whispered, brushing some of the hair from his eyes when you turned to face him.

“Morning,” he whispered back, kissing the center of your forehead. “Time to get up.”

“No,” you groaned. You didn't glance at the time, but your inner alarm clock knew you had a few more minutes.

He chuckled and nipped your other shoulder hard enough to make you gasp. “Yes, Sunbeam,” he said, his tongue tracing the spot he bit. “Gonna watch the sun come up together before breakfast.”

“Why?” You asked. Today wasn't a special occasion or anniversary that you were aware of. He would have reminded you at some point or vice versa.

“Because I wanna watch the sunrise with you,” he replied, sliding a finger under your chin before you could hide your face in his chest. The room was dark, but you felt his gaze plead with you to get up. “Please?” He added for good measure.

With another groan, you gave in. “Fine,” you sighed, trying to hide your smile as you stretched under the sheets. You lucked out with Bucky when it came to small romantic moments. What other man would wake you just to watch the sunrise together? “Sun, breakfast, caffeine.”

“Turning on the light,” he warned, giving you time to cover your eyes when he leaned over to flip the lamp switch. He was thoughtful like that. “I didn't hear 'sex with my amazing boyfriend' on that list. Kinda hurts my feelings.”

You giggled and removed your hand, blinking more of the sleep from your eyes. “Sex is for after I have my caffeine.”

It was his turn to groan. “Fine,” he mocked in his best imitation of you, making you giggle again. You didn't always laugh this early in the morning and not every day began this bright, but every day was a bit lighter thanks to him. “C’mon. You can sleep later.”

“Whatever you say, Buckaroo,” you said as you sat up. You slid your feet into your slippers, your stomach fluttering because you know you didn't put them back in that spot yesterday. “Thank you,” you said, wiggling your toes.

“Can't let your feet touch the cold floor now, can I?” He winked, stretching as he stood up.

Your throat tightened. It was such a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things, but it was the little things that mattered. They showed that he paid attention and cared. You tried to do the same for him, like cooking his favorite meals or drawing him a bath after a hard day. You hoped it was enough.

“You’re so good to me,” you said, holding your hands out so he could help you stand.

“We’re good to each other,” he said, pulling you up with ease.

The rough pads of his fingertips rubbed along your skin, a physical reminder of the work he put in day in and day out. His hands made a difference in the world and your life, his calloused touch telling hundreds of stories. Being part of his journey and creating a new story together was something out of a dream. The beauty of it was that your story wasn't over yet.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked.

“I’ll tell you when we go outside,” you replied, not wanting him to miss any of the view. “Do you need to put a shirt on?”

He pulled a hand away to pat his pocket before he smirked and pointed to his washboard abs. “These give me plenty of heat.”

Your gaze went to his torso, heat of your own spreading from your core. Working day in and day out kept him in great shape. He belonged on one of those cowboy romance novel covers. Or a calendar.

I could make a killing with a ranch hand calendar featuring all the guys.

“And for breakfast, I'll make you some humble pie. A big ol’ slice,” you teased.

“Mmm. Pie for breakfast. You do love me,” he joked.

“More than anything,” you smiled.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth, tilting your world on its axis like always. “Love you, too.”

“You have to if you don't care about my morning breath,” you smiled.

He grabbed a couple of blankets as he led you out to the front porch, just in case there was a chill in the air. Another thoughtful gesture. Instead of taking you to the porch swing like you expected, he took you down the steps and laid out one of the blankets in the grass where you sometimes had picnics together.

“Why aren't we sitting in the swing?” You asked.

“I mean, we could sit in the swing and I can put my arm around you.” He sat down and spread his legs out in front of him, patting the spot between them. “But it’s easier to hold you like this and I wanna hold you when the sun comes up.”

“You’re such a sap,” you smiled, happily taking the spot between his legs. “But I like that.”

“You do know I’m only a sap for you, right?”

“I do,” you said, spreading the other blanket across your legs. “Don't worry. I won't tell anyone.”

“Too late. Everyone knows,” he smiled.

“True,” you said, tilting your head and taking the opportunity to kiss underneath his chin before you looked back at the horizon.

Exhaling, you pressed your back against Bucky’s chest and revelled in the warmth of his body as he wrapped his arms around you. He occasionally reminded you of the sun. He had fire within him and brightened your world just by being there. But to him, you were the sun.

We're each other's sun and moon.

“So, you just felt like watching a sunrise with me?” You asked.

“Just felt like it,” he agreed, holding you a bit tighter. “I’ve watched sunrises and sunsets more times than I can count, but it’s just different with you.”

“Why is that?” You asked.

“It may not make sense, but the sunrise just looks more beautiful and hopeful because I have someone to share it with. And people say sunsets are a way to reset, but I’m just thankful because it was another day I got to spend with you.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple as your heart swelled. “Each day is a blessing because you're in my life.”

You were on the verge of spilling tears, but managed to keep them at bay. “I feel blessed, too,” you whispered.

His chest shook as he chuckled. “I really am a sap.”

“Yeah, but you’re my sap,” you said, tracing the palm of his hand. It was a special thing to bring out that side of him. “You know how you asked me what I was thinking about earlier? I was thinking how your hands can tell so many stories. I think your wrinkles will tell stories, too.”

“My wrinkles?” He asked.

“Yeah. Each is a chapter in your story. Just like every scar,” you answered. Bucky thought every mark on your body was a thing of beauty. You wanted him to feel the same way about his. “They’ll say how you survived hard times. How you lived your life. How you loved.”

“You’re a sap, too,” he teased, catching your elbow before you could ram it into him. “Easy, I’m kidding. I think that’s a beautiful way to look at it.”

There was beauty all around you with Bucky.

“Well, the thought of getting older used to scare me, but it doesn't seem so bad because I have you. We won't have to do it alone. We’ll grow together,” you smiled, gazing at the sky that seemed to stretch on forever. “So when we're older and you have wrinkles and gray hairs, I want you to keep doing this: Wake me up for a sunrise just because you felt like it. Just because you wanted to share one more beautiful moment with me.”

“You wanna grow old with me?” He asked, his voice thicker than you expected. “And on those days, you’ll still love me? Wrinkles and all?”

“Of course, I do. And of course, I will,” you promised. You would love him no matter what. “And you’ll still love me when I grow old?”

“Forever and always,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder when the sun began to rise.

Your heart raced as the hues touched the land you two shared, painting a canvas in glowing rays. He was right that the sunrise was more beautiful and hopeful because you had someone to share it with. And while you were certain there were others watching the sky, this felt like a new dawn just for the two of you.

“It really is breathtaking, isn’t it?” You smiled.

“You’re breathtaking,” he said, making your smile widen as your cheeks warmed.

“You flatter me, Buckaroo,” you said affectionately.

Bucky took a deep breath by your ear as you continued to look at the view. “Marry me, Sunbeam,” he whispered.

With wide eyes, you spun around in his arms. You didn't know it, but to him you looked like an angel with the rays growing brighter around you. “What?” You asked.

“Shit. I was supposed to ask you, not tell you. And I was supposed to have something special planned, but I keep carrying this around in case the time’s right and this just seemed right.” He swallowed before he reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out a small box. “It isn't much. Sure as hell isn't what you deserve and I'm sorry for that,” he said. You covered your mouth with a gasp when he opened it. Simple, beautiful, and a diamond that sparkled like the sun. To you, it was the most beautiful ring to ever exist. “But I love you and I want you to be my wife. I wanna grow old with you and I don't wanna tell the story of my life without you in it. I-”

“Yes!” You shouted into the morning air, knocking him on his back. You were lucky you didn’t knock the ring box out of his hand. “Yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you!”

“I wasn't done with my proposal,” he chuckled.

“I don't care. I said ‘yes’. Now’s the part where you put the ring on my finger,” you smiled with tears in your eyes. He managed to slip the ring onto your finger with you stretched out on top of him. A perfect fit. “It’s beautiful. Don't ever apologize for giving me something so beautiful.”

The proposal was beautiful, too. It came from the heart at a time he knew was right. You couldn't ask for anything better.

I have the whole world because of you.

You swore you saw the sunrise in his eyes as he framed your face and smiled up at you. “Love you, Sunbeam.”

“Love you, too, Buckaroo,” you whispered, giggling. “And guess what?”

“What’s that?”

“I can change sex with my amazing boyfriend to fiancé,” you smiled.

“Why don’t we skip to that part? I’ll make sure you get some caffeine after,” he smirked. "Deal," you giggled again, leaning down to kiss him.

The sun continued to climb in the sky behind you as he deepened the kiss, bathing you in light as you celebrated the next chapter in your life together.

And with his ring on your finger, you knew you’d forever appreciate every sunrise and sunset even more.

Anyone else get a cavity from this sweetness? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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oofmybad · 4 months ago

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Simple joys

synposis: you and billie are hosting a cookout at your shared home. lots of domestic fluff and sweet interactions with family.

warnings: billie x female reader, black!reader, use of patwah (translations included), fluff, lowercase intended

a/n: i made a lil playlist for this fic. it’s mainly jazzy, soul vibes. some reggae here and there. these are the songs that soundtrack the story in my mind, i recommend listening to them while you read <3 but you do you boo

playlist:

i’d like to - corrine bailey rae

why iii love the moon - phony ppl

expensive shit - fela kuti

waiting in vain - bob marley

ajala - ezra collective

tell it like it is - aaron neville

bluh bluh bluh - by.alexander

give me one reason - tracy chapman

get up, interlude - tank and the bangas

natalie - bruno mars

just one lifetime - sting, shaggy

la fat fur - devonté hynes, conan mockasin

carmen - olivia dean

soinlovewithuuuuu!!!!! - 9th wonder

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

today you and billie are hosting a cook out. all of billie’s family are coming, of course, plus peaches and mousse. your chosen family and friends are coming, too. these quarterly cook outs are famous amongst your friends - everyone says that you were born to host. it’s only the late morning, so you are still getting the whole of downstairs ready for visitors while billie remains asleep upstairs - she is NOT an early bird. you’ve set out all of your outside tableware, got the grill warming up on a low heat, and you have begun to take all of the marinated (fake) meat out of their containers ready to be cooked. a light breeze flows through the house, as you’ve opened the sliding doors to the back patio from the kitchen.

your favorite music is bumping through the kitchen, creating a warm, cozy, and happy vibe - you dance around as you complete your little tasks. shark has been attached to your hip all morning, he just wants to be a part of the action - clearly your bubbly energy has rubbed off on him but you love it. he jumps up on his hind legs, putting his front two legs on your tummy, so you hold his paws and dance with him.

billie, with a messy bedhead as her crown, pads her way downstairs to catch you having your sweet moment with shark. she decides not to announce her arrival and pulls out her phone to film a clip of her adorable pair dancing around the kitchen, instead. as she’s filming, she lets out an amused chuckle. this strikes your attention and you throw your head up to look, catching her with her phone in one hand.

“look who’s finally awake, baby!” you say to shark and let go of his paws. he trots off to billie, his tail whacking the kitchen island and creating a rhythmic thump.

“hi, sweet boy” billie coos to shark as she pats his tummy, now sat on her knees. “morning, babygirl” billie looks up at you from her view on the floor.

“hi, pretty. you’re finally awake!” you put your hands up in mock celebration. “it’s only-“ you turn to check the time on the oven “11:45” you say. billie just kisses her teeth at your comment. you ignore her sass and say, “ready, baby? everyone will be here in an hour… well… your gang will be. my gang will be two hours late as always.”

billie nods her head and walks over to give you a hug with a kiss on your neck. “let’s do it” she then says, smiling at your excitement.

after about 15 minutes, you and billie have fully prepared the house for your imminent guests so you both head back upstairs to get yourselves ready. now in your bedroom, you’re both riffling through your individual bikini drawers, deciding which ones to wear. billie lands on a simple black triangle bikini that has a small playboy charms hanging on either hip. you’ve settled on a dainty white scoop neck bikini, a cherry pattern sewn into it. with you both in your chosen bikinis, you turn around simultaneously and burst out laughing at your choices - each of you wearing something so quintesentially you. plus, the pair of you have accidentally dressed in a yin & yang theme - billie wearing a black bikini on her milky white skin, and you in a white bikini on your dark brown, black skin.

you throw a bright coral orange sundress over your body, and billie decides on some long jorts and a baseball jersey. just as you both are fully clothed, you hear the front door open and maggie calls out to the two of you from downstairs. “you go down, baby. i gotta grease my hair first” you say to billie. she walks over to your side of the room and places a quick peck to your forehead saying, “you look so pretty, my love”, before heading out of the room to greet her parents.

after half an hour has passed of you oiling your locs, you can hear the bustle of guests collecting downstairs. happy with your work, you slide on your white birkenstocks and head downstairs.

“y/n!” the whole patio calls out over the music when you walk through the open sliding doors. you can see all of billie’s friends and family chatting in their own formed bubbles, so you let out a wave with both of your hands as a way of greeting everyone at once. billie doesn’t miss the way the apples of your cheeks ball up from how shy you have suddenly become - she opens one of her arms for you to step into, immediately giving you relief. bille squeezes her arm around your shoulder, her hand snaking to your neck as she whispers in your ear, “feeling shy, princess? you know you love it.”

you turn your head in search for her eyes. once you’ve found them, you subtly roll your own then spin out of billie’s grip - heading over to the big table next to the grill. you stand with maggie helping her grill some of the food you prepared last night. “it smells so good, sweetheart”, she says. “thank you” you giggle, “i stole the marinade recipe from my auntie, i hope i’ve done it justice.”

“i’m sure she’ll let us know once she gets here” maggie jokes with you - she knows that your auntie is not one to hold back an opinion. “go hangout with the kids, sweetheart, i’ve got it covered” maggie shoos you away. you giggle at her calling y’all ‘kids’ because no one here is younger than 21.

as you turn away from maggie, billie calls out to you, “baby, come get in the pool. i miss you.”

“alright, alright, i’m coming” you reply while bunching up your dress in your hands, ready to take off once you reach the poolside. you dip your toe in testing the temerature, then walk all the way down the steps, happy with the soothing temperature. billie wades over to you and wraps her arms around your waist while you droop your own arms over her shoulders. “you really did miss me, huh?” you tease her. “sure did” she states, matter of factly. suddenly, you’re getting scooped up into her arms, water splashing around you as you yelp, and your legs wrap around billie’s waist for stability. “you look so so pretty, baby. like a pretty painting” billie says looking into your eyes. “you know i looooove you, right?” you jest in return. “oh yeah?” billie says right before her knees buckle and she dips you both underwater. still underwater, you push yourself off of billie and open your eyes to stick up your middle finger at her. billie makes a heart with her hands in return and pulls you in to quickly kiss you. as soon as you both have your heads above water again, you yell, “what the fuck, billie?! i got water up my nose!”

“sucks to suck” billie retorts with a shrug. you scrunch up your face in faux anger and shake your head agressively from side to side so that you can spray water on billie’s face, your locs creating a sprinkler effect. you can hear finneas and claudia laughing at billie as she uses her hands to shield her face - everyone cackling in unison. she tries to chase you around the pool and tickle you, but is unsuccessful because you moved to the deep end where you can stand but she cannot. amidst your back and forth teasing, you hear your auntie’s sweet accent coming from inside the house. “ahh!” you gasp and snap your head around looking for her. you run (slowly wade) out of the water and up the pool steps, quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around your torso. “auntie!” you call out with your arms wide open as she walks through your garden and into your arms.

“urgh! you’re wet!” she feigns annoyance, but keeps her place tucked in your arms. you ignore her comment and say, “i made your jerk. wollah di bikkle de ital” [all of the food is vegan] pulling out of the hug, a smirk on your face. “mi pikney! goodas, eh smells criss!” [my child! good girl, it smells good!] she says as she takes a sniff of the smoke coming off the grill.

“i saved you a spot in your favorite chair” you say to her, leading her arm to the cushioned deck chair. “duh yu waah sum ginger beer?” [a/n: do i really have to translate that?] you ask her as you walk over to the cooler, already knowing the answer. your hand rustles through the scratchy ice cubes in search of the browny-gold foil can. when you turn back around to give your auntie her drink, you spot billie leant over, giving her a hug. your feet freeze and you watch in admiration, grateful that your girlfriend and the woman who raised you get along so well. watching them both laughing away, surrounded by all of your chosen family and friends mingling, sends a wave of love coarsing through your veins. you’re in love with your girlfriend and the family that you’ve built together.

you walk over to the two of them, handing your auntie her drink as billie cuddles into you. “she treats you well?” your auntie asks you, using her eyebrows to point at billie. “… yes, auntie. she treats me very well”, you laugh at her protectiveness and smile at billie. “good gyal” your auntie says to billie, as she reaches up to her tattooed hand, “mi pikney treats yu well, too?” [a/n: again, surely that’s not worth translating] she asks billie. “yes, ma’am. more than i could ask for. she’s perfect” billie says looking into your eyes. “stop with that gay shit!” you shout out as you fake wretch and clamber out of billie’s hold, all three of you laughing now.

#billie eilish #lesbian #black!reader #billie #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x y/n #billie x reader #billie x you #billie eilish fluff #playlist #Spotify

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xx-lemon-drop-xx · 1 year ago

Note

How would NRC (only 18+ characters) react to their fem s/o texting them "Come here, I'm horny"?

I'm so sorry these are so short. Your girls getting a bit burnt out as of late for some reason. Anyways, I hope you like them <33

Warnings: MDNI, fem reader, suggestive but not really smutty, mentions of boners.

Request: Yes.

Words: 1,130.

Trey Clover

Trey was working on frosting a cake with Riddle when he received the text from you. And thankfully Riddle was short because he damn near choked at the message. A blunt, “Come. I'm horny." Was all you had sent.

However, catering to your needs, he let Riddle know something important had come up and he had to go tend to a leak in your roof. Riddle of course sensing the urgency had nodded with a simple; “Go, I can manage the frosting." Trey felt no remorse for fibbing to his friend and dorm leader, and went off to find you at Ramshackle.

Entering the broken down household he smiled gingerly over at you. "You needed me, peach? Go and lay back on the bed. I'll take care of you."

Cater Diamond

Cater was at the Light Music club when you texted him, and just in case it was urgent or some spicy drama from magicam had checked his phone right away. It was spicy, just in a way he hadn't thought it'd be. His face slowly flushed a red, gaining the attention of Kalim, who had asked if he was okay.

Cater cleared his throat, nodding. “Uh… Yes! Ah haha, I'm okay! Sorry, I just got distracted there for a minute.” While Kalim was none the wiser, the old fae on the other hand, was.

After he finished the club Cater quickly made his way to your dorm, shoving open your door he crawled over you, leaning down to press a searing kiss against you. “Hahh.. Babydoll, you can't just text me like that out of the blue!”

Leona Kingscholar

You really think this man was anywhere but napping?

He was less than amused to stir awake from his phone going off, alerting him of a text message. And for a moment he wasn't going to even answer it, rather he'd just roll over and go back to bed but something prompted him to pick up that phone and boy was he glad he did.

A smirk formed across his face and he texted back a simple “Omw" before rolling out of bed, hair messy and clothes disheveled before making his way to your dorm. He was there in record time, falling across your bed and grasping your hips to make you straddle him. Yeah, some pussy was definitely better than sleeping.

“Feeling like a whore? Then sit on this cock and take it like a good girl."

Vil Schoenheit

He was at a photoshoot when you texted him. He'd frowned slightly at your blunt order but underneath was particularly amused. His little potato needed him?

"You're going to have to wait, lovely. Photoshoot is almost over.” He could almost feel the way your lips puckered into a pout on the other side of the phone as he got back into position for another photo after his short break. Thirty minutes later he was leaving the photoshoot.

And fifty minutes later he was coming into your dorm room, sliding off his shoes and over coat before leaning over you on the bed, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “I'm sorry for being so long. Let me make it up to you, potato.” He dragged your hand up his leg onto the crotch of his pants, before moving to straddle you.

Rook Hunt

Was enjoying nature up in a tree when his phone buzzed in his pocket. On pulling it out and seeing your text message, you received back a slur of French, with a few heart Emojis after them. “English, Rook." His lips quirked at your sass. “On my way as we speak, Mon amour." He texted back, pocketing his phone before climbing down the tree.

Fast on his feet and in the area, Rook arrived at Ramshackle within five minutes. He hung his coat on the coat wrack and took off his shoes before padding up to your room.

“My petite amour, I have arrived.” He cupped your face, pressing light kisses against your chin and jaw. "Do tell me which part of me you crave first, Mon lapin.”

Idia Shroud

Thankfully Idia was in his room like always when he received your text. Instant red face. (And instant Idia jr peaking up but we don't talk about that) Almost thought you were tweaking or had text the wrong person, despite being your lover. However after getting his shit together he texts you back.

“Can you come here? I.. Might be in a predicament where I am unable to leave my room for a while."

When you came to his dorm instead of the other way around he had a pillow over his lap and his face and hair were both a light red in color. Grasping onto the pillow you pulled it off and crawled onto his bed after shutting and locking his door. Idia’s hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you down to straddle him. “Eheheh.. You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He grinned against your throat, before biting down on your shoulder to leave a hickey.

Malleus Draconia

Remains stone faced despite the very obvious tent rising in his trousers. If his tail were to be out it would've been wagging in slight excitement. Out of everyone, you might just be the only person to be able to boss around and command the prince of briar valley.

“You wish to mate with me? I will be over immediately, child of man." It takes him a moment to answer you. Not because he didn't see the message but because he still doesn't know how to use a phone that well still. Please be patient, he is very happy.

Appears outside your dorm as soon as he texts you back, eagerly knocking on your door in a beckon for you to let him in. As soon as you open the door he is grabbing you by the hips, guiding you against him. “My dearest peony, do feel free to seek me out everytime you have these feelings. I will be more than obliged to assist you.”

Lilia Vanrogue

Doesn't even answer your message. He was in history and then all of a sudden he was floating upside down in front of you. An amused look was on his face though despite the little grin his eyes were foggy with lust.

“Oh my what do we have here? Couldn't even keep your hands out of your panties in the short time it took me to get here? Fufufu~ let's have a look now, hmm?"

Lilia eagerly slots himself between your legs like he's always belonged there, nibbling and nipping at your legs as he makes his way up. “You taste exquisite, and I haven't even gotten to the main course yet.”

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ghostytoad · 14 days ago

Note

Can I request rottmnt x villain reader were they taking this as a joke they play around and take nothing seriously but they are brilliant and they steel thing that from the hardest place to get in and after a week she returned it with a little note on it that says two easy :)

And they love to annoy the rottmnt

And love what you're doing it good

Getting back into it! Got plenty of requests to catch up on so expect a spam...

All's Fair in...

ROTTMNT Boys x GN! Theatrical Villain with dubious motives and a playful streak

Summary: The Hamato brothers deal with a supervillain with dramatic flair and a penchant for games.

Headcanons for: Mikey, Leo, Donnie, and Raph

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff || Words: 1.8k

Mikey:

He is instantly captivated. He’s wide-eyed the moment they somersault onto the scene with a dramatic entrance and an evil laugh. “DUUUDE. She’s like a real-life anime villain!!”

Even if they're not subtle with their misdeeds, Mikey won't write them off as completely evil. He'll take Y/N's constant games as irrefutable evidence that they're not bad, they just need a nudge in the right direction.

Just like with Baron Draxum, Meatsweats, and Cassandra, Mikey will NOT give up on Y/N. Even if it takes the rest of his life, he WILL get them to change! Or at the very least steal less...

He isn't one to judge and no matter the crime, he's quick to find some justification behind it. It annoys his brothers to no end just how often he'll make excuses for Y/N's antics.

"See? They even returned it! Does that scream 'Evil Villain' to you?"

No one is convinced...

Won't admit it out loud, but he secretly looks forward to facing off with Y/N. Treats it as much of a game as they do. No consequences, just good ol' fun!

He might even leave a few notes of his own hidden around where the brothers might be expecting Y/N to next.

He'll leave them inspirational quotes like "Every day is a new opportunity!" or "Someone somewhere cares about you!"

Might even leave a few sketches he's made of them scattered around for them to find. He considers it an olive branch of sorts.

Oh yeah... He's sketched them more often than he cares to admit. He even has their name graffitied into his sketchbook... They may or may not have received a few of these in the mail from an anonymous 'fan'.

He definitely fangirls if Y/N manages to pull off a particularly difficult heist. Like he's secretly rooting for them. And honestly, he kinda is.

The way he sees it, as long as no one's really getting hurt, what's the harm?

He might even compliment their tastes or gush over their 'ingenious plan' during battles.

He might as well consider himself Y/N's number one fan. Everyone else can see just how hard he's pining for them, but he insists it's just admiration! "Can't a guy swoon over a few well-placed traps?"

Unfortunately, he does get a bit distracted as a result of their captivating banter. And Y/N gets away. Every. Single. Time.

He bites the bullet one day and decides to send them a long and rambling love letter about how amazing their last escape was and if he could get their autograph and maybe a lock of their hair.

Leo:

A villain with theatrical flair? Oh, Leo is all FOR IT.

Every fight turns into a back-and-forth exchange of sass and innuendo. It's non-stop flirting the whole time. The rest of the team groans.

“Can you two not flirt mid-battle?!” "Or get a room, for the love of god!"

He's definitely on board with their little games. Listens to every dramatic monologue with keen interest. He's legitimately invested in their maniacal schemes.

Especially considering that Y/N never takes things too seriously. What's the point of villainy if they're not allowed to have a little fun? And it's not like anyone's actually getting hurt.

Obviously, he's not too keen on the whole 'criminal' aspect, but eh, he can let that slide. Who hasn't stolen a few trinkets? If it weren't for his brothers, Leo would definitely be going along with their villainy.

Besides, with banter this good, who can resist? It's like they were tailor made for each other!

"Fancy seeing you here again, Y/N. Can't blame ya, I am a work of art after all~"

He LIVES for the fun banter, the dramatic exits, it just screams classic villain vs. hero. Plus, it gives him a chance to show off his rad skills. Who doesn't love an audience?

Fair warning, though, he is not one to be outdone and will play things up to an obnoxious degree. Leo will make it his life mission to one-up Y/N in showmanship, to out-wit them with his killer one-liners, to be the guy that gets the last laugh.

So what if they get away? The gang can always catch them later. He won't admit that he's really only using that as an excuse for more battles.

He has gotten in trouble for letting them walk free because he just makes it SO. OBVIOUS.

"Same time next week, gorgeous?" "LEO! THEY ARE RIGHT THERE!"

Pretends he’s unaffected by their charm, but he’s so into them. Every time they escape, he paces the rooftop like a lovesick fool. Donnie's caught him monologuing to himself a time or two, the dork.

Would never try to change Y/N's villainy ways, that's more of Mikey's thing. If it's not broke, why fix it? And he definitely enables their schemes. He might even throw in a few suggestions here and there.

"You call that an escape? Leave this to the pros. Allow moi." He literally portals them out of there.

The taunting notes might get under his skin if they hit a little too close to home, but for the most part, he likes to think of them as a challenge. And Leo's never one to back down from a challenge!

Eventually confesses in the middle of a duel. It comes out of the blue (pun intended) too. But it's subtle enough that it doesn't register until well after the battle. “Y’know what? I like you, sparkle-bomb. Even if you’re the biggest headache I’ve ever had.”

Donnie:

Starting out? Utter disdain. Aggravation, frustration, humiliation. Y/N's games are the bane of Donnie's existence. Their villainy has earned them a top spot on Donnie's hit list (not an assassination list, just a list of people he wants to hit).

Each heist, each failed mission, every little note is a blow to his pride. He takes every note as a taunt and those taunts haunt his every nightmare. He will absolutely lose sleep over Y/N and not in a good way.

Eventually, he learns to tolerate them. After all, their schemes are pretty impressive, even if he isn't too fond of their motives. Especially when it comes to the higher-risk missions. There's a small level of begrudging respect there.

The one thing he absolutely CANNOT get over is their devil-may-care attitude or how casually they just go around wreaking havoc. Reminds him a little too much of Leonardo and he's not exactly a fan.

“A competent villain is not all that special. Their calculations are sloppy. Their logic is flawed. Their outfit has—ugh. Fantastic layering!"

Won't ever for the life of him say that they're a better... well, anything than him (definitely his pride talking), but he starts reverse-engineering their confiscated tech after every fight. He spitefully disassembles their gadgets just to put them back together better.

Sends them back in mystery boxes just so he can brag about the new improvements he's made and definitely not to hear their praise.

Donnie hacked their communicator once just to prove he could. They responded by hacking into his lab and leaving a flirty voice note. He hasn’t deleted it.

He may or may not have sample-mixed their recordings to mess around with when he thinks no one's around. Mixes it up to say things like "You have bested me once again, Othello von Ryan! You truly are the superior one!".

They hack each other’s comms to send snarky messages. Y/N's are usually flirty. His are annoyed... mostly. Talks to them under various aliases. They figure out it’s him after, like, two messages.

“Donatello, darling, I’d know your neurotic typing pattern anywhere.”

They’ve fought entirely in binary code over encrypted signals. None of the brothers know what they’re saying. Mikey suspects it’s dirty.

Thinks about Y/N at the most inconvenient times. In the lab, during training, mid-sentence—suddenly they're there in his head with a smirk and a bad pun. It INFURIATES him.

Y/N definitely plays into his weaknesses by complimenting him or offering him praise mid-battle. And we all know how susceptible Donnie is to praise.

“Only someone truly brilliant could hack the city grid like that~” “Well, I—I mean, it’s basic physics and hacking theory but—ugh, stop looking at me like that.”

Raph:

Raph doesn't have the same appreciation for Y/N's dramatic flair as his brothers. In fact, he's suspicious as hell.

“They're too loud. Too showy. That ain’t normal.” He's constantly glaring at them like they just kicked his dog.

He hates how cool Y/N is in front of his brothers. They'll swing in, blow something up, strike a pose, and call him “Red Hot.” Leo’s wheezing. Mikey’s making kissy faces. Raph is about to throw a car.

Every time they call him a cutesy nickname mid-battle, he physically reacts. “Big guy.” “Muscles.” “My darling devastation~” Cue involuntary neck flex, eye twitch, and beet-red cheeks. Every. Single. Time.

Raphael has always been a big fan of martial arts and Y/N's form is no exception. Lowkey memorizes their fighting style. Not to beat them (okay maybe a little), but because he likes watching them move—graceful, bold, impossible to ignore. It’s art, even if it makes him flustered.

Wants to hate Y/N. Tells himself they're ridiculous, unserious, and a total distraction... but when they're not around, everything feels quieter. Boring. Empty.

Despite being on different sides of the battle, he would absolutely save them during a mission gone wrong. He says it’s “just so they can face us fair next time.”. Everyone can see right through that silly little excuse.

Eventually admits he respects their strength and wit. Even if they're annoying. He likes someone who can throw him across a rooftop and laugh while doing it.

He secretly trains harder after every encounter.

He won’t say it out loud, but part of him wants to impress Y/N—not just protect his brothers. He knows they're dangerous, but damn if he doesn’t want to keep up with them.

He always growls when they escape but never chases them as hard as he could. “One of these days, I’m gonna catch Y/N.” But he’s lying to himself. He lets them go every time.

If they ever flirt with someone else to get under his skin? Oh boy. The look he gives is pure murder—and the second they’re alone, he corners them like “You wanna explain what the hell that was?”

Y/N likes to pretend they have no idea what they're talking about. And ooh, does it ever piss the hell out of him.

Like his brothers, though, he isn't too against the idea of redemption. Hell, if it worked with Baron and Cassandra, Y/N would definitely be a candidate for change.

He would try to give them a second chance if they ever got seriously hurt or turned against a greater threat. “You’re still a pain, but... you don’t gotta do this alone.”

#toady talks #toad talks #toady writes #ask #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt Leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x oc #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #rottmnt headcanons #headcanons #x reader #request

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year ago

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Part two to this story

After Jason's cruel display and your identity of Eddie's admirer being public knowledge, you're sure he will be disgusted. He hates you and your friends doesn't he?

Turns out you're in for a big surprise.

Minors shoo! Angst, fluff, sweet Eddie and reader taking no shit.

If you have any requests then send me an ask. My request rules are in my pinned post ❤️

🎀💌

Hellfire Slut. The words had practically burned into your brain as you tossed and turned in bed. Jason's cruelty was nothing new but you didn't think he'd ever go this far.

It was bad enough that Eddie's best friend had caught you in the act of delivering the notes and the thought he could spill all to Eddie, you didn't expect your secret to come out in such a public way.

The notes that you had poured your heart to Eddie had been clear to see by everyone and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care that people knew you were smitten with Eddie, it was the fact that he was probably disgusted that you had feelings for him.

You dreaded going to school but you knew you had to face Eddie and Jason at some point. It didn't stop nightmares plaguing your mind all night about what would happen come first period.

...

Homeroom was the first thing today before any other classes, you try not to draw attention to yourself as you slide into a seat at the back of class. However it feels like all eyes are on you today, Chrissy takes the seat beside you and holds your hand giving it a tight squeeze, it makes you feel a tiny bit better.

Mrs Jones isn't in class yet so chatter buzzes around you incessantly, your skin tingles as you feel Eddie's gaze on you a few times, try not to look up into those pretty brown eyes.

One of Jason's friends called Tyler smirks at you, he's sitting beside Jason and says loudly for all to hear. "So little miss perfect likes a freak in the sheets huh? Who would have thought?" there's a little ripple of laughter that's quelled by Chrissy's vicious glare. She's normally a sweetie so seeing her pissed shut everyone up.

Ignore him. Just ignore him you chant in your head but he still continues. "You know I was going to ask you out but fuck that. You're a dumb little bitch"

There's a collective silence as you hear Eddie's metal lunchbox drop to the floor. To your surprise he's glaring daggers at Tyler, you also notice that his knuckles are bruised. What the hell happened?

"Oooh you're in luck sweetcheeks, maybe Munson likes you back and the two of you can be freaks together"

You're fraying control over being calm snaps. Screw this. You weren't going to sit and let him run his mouth or let anyone like him or Jason make you cry again.

"You can admit to everyone you're jealous Tyler it's okay. We all heard about the little problem you have, Stacy told us all about how disappointing you are" you fake a sympathetic smile at him and his eyes nearly bug out of his sockets.

Jason looks ready to say something but you don't give the satisfaction of listening to the bullshit he says. "I couldn't be less interested in what you have to say Carver, you're a pathetic, nasty little worm"

While sassing Jason you miss the look of awe on Eddie's face. Gareth snorts at Eddie's stunned look.

"Dude, I really do think I'm in love" Eddie murmurs sounding almost reverent. Gareth sighs. Maybe now Eddie knew it was you that sent the notes the two of you could get together and he could get a minute of peace.

Meanwhile you lean back in your seat relieved as Mrs Jones comes in. There's still a question that's nagging at you though.

"Chrissy, why are Eddie's knuckles bruised?"and that's when Chrissy launches into the tale of how Eddie punched Jason after you left yesterday.

Hearing this makes a small bubble of hope build up inside of you. Maybe just maybe Eddie feeling the same for you might not be as hopeless as you first thought.

...

After a few fruitless attempts Eddie manages to track you down as you're coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy. She gives you an impish, knowing smile as she leaves you and Eddie to talk.

Telling Jason and Tyler what you thought about them made you feel a little bit better for a while, boosted your shattered confidence but now Eddie was around and you could feel that confidence crack.

What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you he was disgusted?

"You don't have to be nervous princess" you feel your nerves dissipate at his soothing tone.

"I know you thought the notes were a joke but they aren't Eddie, I've really fallen for you. I was crushing on you for such a long time. That's why I wrote the notes in the first place, I was worried if I told you in person that you would be disappointed" the words all come out in a rush and you feel relieved getting it all out.

He shakes his head. "I mean I would have been surprised but the way you spoke in the notes...how could you ever think I'd ever be disappointed sweetheart?" His words fill you with hope, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest.

"You know because I'm from the dark side" you murmur and he frowns. His hand reaches out to hold yours and you wince at the bruising on his knuckles.

"You didn't need to do that Eddie, I don't want you hurt" he shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"It was worth it. You're worth it"

Eddie gently takes your hand and kisses it, "I fell in love with you through what you said sweetheart, I want to know all about you. I don't give a fuck about who you're friends with or if you're part of the dark side. I just want to be with you".

A slow smile works it's way on your face and you lean forward and kiss him, continue kissing him until you're both a little dazed and smiling goofily at each other.

"Uh maybe we could go out for Milkshakes after school, if you want princess?" you nod feeling the bubble of excitement in your belly.

After all that worrying you were going on your first date with Eddie and you couldn't wait.

Maybe happy endings were possible after all ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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max-nico · 1 year ago

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It's Tails first birthday with Sonic. Sonic estimates the kid is turning about 4, maybe 5 today. They're sitting at a little diner in some middle-of-nowhere town, partially because they don't have the funds for much more, but also because Tails only said he would like to go to a restaurant for his birthday.

It seemed like an odd choice for a kid, Sonic is pretty sure kids usually ask to go to things like amusement parks, or trampoline parks, or... Regular parks. He's not quite sure what kids like outside of parks, so maybe he's overthinking it.

Still, he asks Tails why he would want to go out to eat anyways. It seems like an odd choice for a rambunctious 4 (5?) year old.

"Oh." He mumbles, "Well I dunno what people do for birthdays, but one time I heard people back at the island talkin'bout going to dinner! I thought that's what people are s'posed to do, am I wrong?"

Sonic frowns for a moment, unsure of how to answer his question. It takes a little work to make the words he's looking for bubble up from his throat, still pretty unused to talking more than what's absolutely necessary.

"No, not really. You're-You are supposed to do what you want for your birthday. Whatever you want." Sonic's words drag in all the wrong places, and linger when he chokes on vowels. "Like, go to the park or.. something. Would you want to go to the park?"

Tails thinks for a moment and shakes his head.

"No, you don't play with me at the park, and I wanna spend my birthday with you, Sonic!"

Way to hit a hedgehog in his heart strings, huh? Normally when they're at a park there's other kids, so he lets them entertain themselves while he takes a nap on a nearby bench. He's not playing because he doesn't want to play, he's trying to encourage Tails to make friends. It seems, he may have screwed up somehow, not in any unfixable way though.

Sonic frowns, "If we go to the park I'm happy to play with you. Do you want to go?"

Tails shakes his head again, "I'm hungry."

Sonic laughs.

The diner staff are polite. They all have slow drawls that make it practically impossible for Sonic to actually listen to them, but by Gaia does he try. They just ask general questions; drinks, food, sauce, sides. Things like that. Sonic makes sure to mention Tails birthday as well, and the lady promises to come back with two free cupcakes.

The entire dinner flies by in no time at all. Tails does most of the talking, as usual, but Sonic tries harder to contribute to the conversations and ask engaging questions. Even when the fox starts going on and on about plane parts and upgrades that Sonic can't even begin to pronounce, let alone grasp what they do.

Soon enough, their dessert is out. Sonic has never been big on any types of sweets, so as soon as the happy birthday song the waiters sing is over he slides his cupcake to Tails side of the booth. It's more than worth it, even if he would've wanted the cupcake, because the kids eyes light up like Sonic has just handed him the stars.

"Are you gonna blow out your candle first?" Sonic chuckles, pointing at Tails own still sparking cupcake.

"Well duh!" He sasses, grinning.

"What're you gonna wish for?"

Again, Tails thinks, wrinkling his nose as if this is the most important question he's ever had to answer.

"It has t'be small." He says. "Just in case."

An eyebrow raise is shot Tails' way. "In case of what?"

"Well, the elders at the island always said wishin' comes at a price, that's why I was born with two tails y'see? So it can't be big, just in case, cuz I can't accidentally trade ya'up! You're more important to me than any wish ever!"

Before Sonic can respond, Tails has blown out his candle. The hedgehog's eyes are a little misty, and his nose is a little runny, unbeknownst to the little fox across from him. Never in Sonic's life has he had anyone be so.. so genuine to him. He's so beside himself with fondness he isn't quite sure what to do with it all, he feels so swollen with love he might explode.

Quietly, Sonic asks him what he wished for.

"Your long and pro-prosperous health! That means ya get to stay healthy for a long long time." Tails smiles but his face is deadly determined, as if he's truly trying to will his wish into existence by sheer force of will alone.

Sonic supposes he'll have to wish for the same thing on his birthday, just to make sure they're even.

Heyyyy y'all !! Should I probably wait until Tails actual birthday to post a birthday fic? Maybe. Do I care? Nope !! Come talk to me !! I don't bite I swear !!!

Sonic, in this fic for some reason: do you want to go to the park?

Tails: no I do not

Sonic: Have you ever gone to the park?

Tails: no I have not

Sonic: will you go to the park?

Tails: maybe...

Sonic: when will you go to the park?

Tails:

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animereaderinsertwriter · 4 months ago

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part one - two - three - four -five

i saw you in a dream (bucky barnes x reader)

tags/warnings: plot with porn, fluff, a little angst, there is some mild amnesia, major plot twist, first person (bucky's) pov, inspired by this song

blurb: In this life and every life; waking and dreaming; this I swear.

These are the words inscribed on Bucky's wedding ring. A wedding ring that he doesn't remember ever having. It's not a vow he made-- not that he remembers, anyway-- but it might just be one that he decides to keep anyway.

ao3 here

“I’ve decided to call off of work for a while,” my wife explains to me over breakfast. “I’d rather be around if you need me than be at work, and we’ve got ample savings to live off of in the meantime.”

I ask her if she’s sure about that— I don’t really need a babysitter, I’ve already gotten over my meltdown about this whole thing— but she assures me that she believes it’s the right decision.

“What do you do for work, then, that they let you have time off so easy?”

She hesitates.

“I work for Tony Stark,” she replies after a moment. “As it stands, though, he’s got an excellent team, so they can share the load of whatever I’m leaving behind. Besides, it’s time I took a vacation.”

She’s keeping something from me, but I let it slide.

“Babysitting me is hardly a vacation.”

She shoots me a sly grin over her cup of coffee.

“Who said I was babysitting? Keep up the sass and I’ll call Dolores to sit with you while I go to Bali.”

I’m startled into a laugh.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? Try me, soldier boy.”

There is a strange energy between us that makes me feel oddly playful. I want to forget about eggs and bacon and chase her around the house instead.

Gradually, though, that energy fades as we run out of things to talk about. Awkwardness subsumes us again, and since I cooked, (Y/N) offers to wash dishes, presumably to escape the weight of the silence between us.

About an hour of that tension is all either of us can stand.

“I’m going downstairs to train,” she says, throwing a bar cloth over her shoulder. “Would you like to join me?”

I blink.

“We have a downstairs?”

“Yes— a basement.” A fond smile comes over her face. “You designed it yourself.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“I did?”

“Oh yes.” She grins. “Come on, dear— I’ll give you the tour. You’ll love it.”

She walks past me just close enough for me to feel the heat from her body, but does not touch me. She keeps going just long enough for me to see the full length of her figure, then turns back to throw at me a mischievous look over her shoulder.

“Well? Coming?”

She keeps walking, and I keep staring. This time, though, I grin. This hint of playfulness gets a rise out of me not unlike the one from before, and I realize that this must be what normal is for us.

What a fox.

Like a hound dog wagging his tail, I move to follow her. This, if nothing else, should prove interesting.

***

Three and a half hours later, I’m sore, sweaty, and I can’t feel my face.

To be fair, we’ve only been working for most of three hours. The majority of the first hour was spent on rediscovery— and what an hour it was! Not only did I apparently stock most of the cool machines I’d used in Wakanda, but there were also some things I’d never seen before, such as the combat simulator that Shuri had apparently gifted me last year for my birthday. (Y/N) warned me that it felt real, but I didn’t believe her until those nerve stimulators of Shuri’s mimicked exactly the feeling of a bullet ripping through my shoulder. It’s unpredictable, the simulator; it generates combat scenarios at random, and not every conflict ends well even if you do everything by the book. It’s a genius invention, and I spend an hour and a half on that alone.

As fascinating as the combat simulator is, though, it doesn’t hold a candle to what comes next.

While I rest from playing with all my (new) gadgets, my wife has been working slowly and steadily, alternating between lifting weights and training with a punching bag. She’s sweating heavily, and she looks pretty fatigued, but she keeps at it with a determination that reminds me of Steve. Eventually, though, she sits down to rest too, and between gulps of water, she says,

“Spar with me.”

“What?”

The word comes out as a laugh. She smirks.

“Laugh now, Sergeant Barnes, but I learned from the best.”

“Oh yeah?” I challenge playfully. “Who?”

Her smile is radiant and warm; it feels like a house fire in my chest.

“You.”

My heart skips a beat.

She thinks I’m the best.

It’s a stupid thought, perhaps even a silly one, but it’s there. Even so, looking at her now, moving to stand with her hair all mussed and her face all sweaty, I know I can’t seriously spar with her.

At least, that’s what I think until she whirls a kick at my head, forcing me to block it with my forearm.

“I said,” she pants, baring her teeth in a feline grin, “spar with me.”

The word no had been on the tip of my tongue— but I’ve never been one to leave a blow unanswered.

I grin back, and the game is on.

I launch myself from my seat, aiming to use my size to my advantage and grapple her— safely, gently, of course— to the ground. All my arms catch is air. She bounds lightly backwards, as graceful as a dancer, and holds her hands up in a ready position.

After I aim a few hits at her, missing each one, I realize her strategy. I’m bigger, stronger than her, sure, but it takes a lot more for my muscles to move my larger body than it does hers. She’s baiting me into my strikes, hoping to fatigue me before she presses what then will be her advantage. I adjust accordingly. I feint left, but move right— the motion traps her as my metal metal hand closes around her soft flesh. I think I have her until she uses the same momentum that I use to pull her to me to bash her forehead against the bridge of my nose, stunning me. She wrenches free and tries to sweep my feet, but I’m too sturdy for her. Instead, she falls with the motion, and I follow her to the floor in an unsightly but effective crawl to try and close the distance between us for a grapple. She doesn’t make it to her feet before I’m on her, and I know it’s game over now.

Size for size, strength for strength, I’ll win.

Surprisingly, though, she still makes me work for it.

In an impressive show of agility, she rolls away from me before I can grab her— but not before aiming a kick at my temple that, had it landed, might have been deadly. Frustrated, I make a grab at the foot that kicked at me, and she stomps my fleshy hand with her heel— meet punishment for the pettiness of my grab. Truly irritated now, and in sorry pain, I get my feet underneath me and throw myself at her once more.

She rolls again, and my hand misses her arm by only half an inch. In fact, she almost makes it to her feet before I finally latch both arms around her waist and bring her down hard. I win the ensuing scramble; only a few seconds pass before I have her pinned beneath me, my hands circling her wrists and forcing them to the ground beside her head. Her legs are pinned open by my knees, and I grin in fierce triumph.

“I win,” I say, and I know my expression must be wild with joy.

Her expression doesn’t exactly match mine, though. Her eyes are wide, her lips are parted, and…

And her chest, slightly exposed and pressed forth by her raised arms, is heaving.

The world slows. My awareness narrows to just the places where our bodies are touching, which is… a lot of places. My heart is racing, I can’t catch my breath— and neither can my wife. My wife, who is panting, sweaty, and beautiful, whose soft thighs are on either side of mine, and whose eyes say she wants me to close all the distance that there is between us.

“Bucky.”

She breathes my name like a sigh, and I know that in this moment, I’ll do whatever she asks of me.

“Bucky,” she repeats, “I think— I think I need to shower.”

That’s… not what I wanted to hear.

I let her up. She dusts off like it’s nothing, but I can see the tremble in her limbs. She’s fatigued beyond fatigue, utterly exhausted— and so, I find, am I. On unsteady legs, I move to follow her, then stop.

“Eat something,” I tell her belatedly, uselessly. “I mean, to keep your strength up, you should probably eat.”

She turns. Her smile is sad.

“Thanks Buck, darling. I will.”

And thus, like a newborn fawn, she stumbles out of the room on shaky legs, leaving me to stand in humiliating silence with a raging hard-on and nothing to do with it.

***

While (Y/N) showers, I raid the kitchen.

My own shower was short and cold. I took it in the guest room, which is just as richly furnished as the rest of the house. It wasn’t the best shower I’ve ever taken, though, since I wouldn’t exactly call it refreshing. I came out of it just as I came into it— tired, frustrated, and hungry.

One of those things can be fixed quick, fast, and in a hurry by an enterprising guy like me, though, and I place my bets on the fridge as I crack it open for a peek at its treasures.

There is everything imaginable in that refrigerator. So much that I have a hard time choosing anything at all. I settle on boiled eggs, string cheese, and an apple to start, and when that doesn’t do the trick, I manage to put together the ingredients for a simple but flavorful soup.

By the time (Y/N) returns from her shower, the soup is finished and there’s a bowl cooling for her on the counter. I serve it to her myself when she comes into the kitchen, and she thanks me tiredly as she sits at the dining room table.

“This is good.” She blows on the steaming spoonful she’s scooped up. “Thank you.”

I shrug.

“Sure thing.”

Once she’s done, I take her bowl and clean up. Her eyes are drooping sleepily, and I have to work to hide my smile from her as she yawns cutely.

“Wanda, Nat, and Bruce want to go out tonight,” she sighs tiredly, looking at her phone. “They’ve invited us, if you’re interested— although, just so you know, they likely have selfish intentions for asking us to come.”

I cock my head to the side in question. My wife blinks blearily, then clarifies.

“You can’t get drunk, so you always DD.”

“Not selfish, then.” I laugh, “just common sense.”

“Mm, maybe. Wanda gets weepy when she’s drunk, and Bruce gets cornier. Natasha stays Natasha, but sometimes her languages become… interesting.”

“And you?”

She grins.

“I have no idea what you mean. I’m a delight, as usual, even when I’m drunk.”

Oh, I can translate that pretty easily. My money says she’s worse than all three of them combined.

“So,” she continues, “you in or out?”

I consider declining— (Y/N) seems too sleepy now to go out later in the day— but then I remember our sparring earlier and decide that, super-soldier-ness be damned, a drink might be a good idea after all.

“I’m down. You sure you’re not too tired? We worked hard earlier.”

“I’ll nap,” she yawns.

I continue cleaning up, and she shuffles in the direction of the master bedroom with a muffled thanks for the food.

A little while later, I settle in on the couch and very politely pretend that I can’t hear the distinct buzz of a vibrator through the walls as my wife, on the other side, softly calls my name, doubtless thinking me unable to hear.

Damn that super soldier serum. Never did me any damn good.

***

I’ve never taken so long to dress in my life.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I completely fried my brain looking at the wardrobe in front of me. There are… there are colors here. Colors and designs and textures— how the fuck am I supposed to match any of this to anything else? I have half a mind to ask (Y/N) for guidance. However, the other half of my mind would insist that I jump off a bridge before resorting to having her dress me like I’m some kind of doll, so instead of looking at the clothes and continuing to overwhelm myself, I move to look at myself in the mirror and try to imagine an outfit that I would like.

While I’m scrutinizing myself trying to find the best outfit, I realize that my hair is different than I remember it. It’s still long, but there are more layers. I like it, I think. It makes me look cleaner, sharper.

I finally settle on a black button-up and a pair of jeans. There’s a jewelry box on the dresser that I found my socks and underwear in, and I open it to find jewelry that must belong to me: a couple medals (Jesus, they’re old!), a silver chain, and a set of cufflinks.

There is also a wedding ring.

I lift the wedding ring and examine it. There is an inscription looping on the inside of it that reads,

In this life and every life; waking and dreaming; this I swear.

I consider putting it on my finger, but I decide against it. I haven’t earned the right to wear it— not yet. I have no right to my wife; as I am, I can’t be what she needs. I’ll need to wait until I can prove to her and to myself that I can still make her happy before I can feel right about it.

I place the ring back in the jewelry box and try not to feel disappointed.

I pick up the silver chain. It might be a nice addition to the outfit, I think. I put it on, stare at it, then take it off. I peer at myself, sigh, then put it back on.

It’ll have to do.

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I finally manage to meet my wife in the living room, ready to head out. I make it halfway through the threshold to the living room before my jaw hits the floor.

Her dress is champagne gold with a perfectly-draped neckline that I feel sure makes my eyes bulge out in cartoonish heart shapes. The thin straps of the halter neckline settle pleasingly over her shoulders, and when she turns, I thank God for every roll, dimple, and contour of her back. Her long, delicate earrings brush her shoulders as she turns back to me, and I decide then and there that it’s over for me. There’s no way I’m not going to spend every minute of every day trying to make this dame happy for the rest of my life. Greek statues would be jealous of such a beauty. Hell, I don’t discriminate— statues of every race, color, and creed can eat their hearts out. They could never compare to her.

“Hey handsome. Whatcha think? Will I do?”

My approval must be obvious; she smiles cheeky and adds,

“It has pockets!”

To show me, she sticks her hands in them. The motion makes her breasts jiggle prettily, and I fix my gaze on the light fixtures in the ceiling trying to will away the urge to peel that fucking dress off of her with my teeth like I have any right whatsoever to do so.

I really don’t know what the hell’s come over me. I feel like a hound-dog slavering over a fox. I’ve always loved women— who doesn’t?— but this feels… different. I ache for her in a way that makes me want to crack open her rib cage and live there.

“You look great.” My mouth is dry. I clear my throat. “Really great. I feel a little underdressed, looking at you. I can change, though, if you— ”

She grabs my arm, right on the muscle of my bicep.

“Don’t you dare,” she murmurs, looking up at me through her lashes. “If you look any better, I’ll have to keep a baseball bat around to beat the women off of you.”

She squeezes my bicep, then releases me, her expression subdued.

Was that… jealousy?

Interesting.

I offer her my arm— the metal one. She takes it, and I try not to feel smug.

“Ready?”

She smiles, nods, and accepts the arm I offer— but not before glancing at it and frowning. I frown too, confused about what might have displeased her, but there’s nothing I can figure out before we’re loading up in what is apparently my Jeep Wrangler. She directs me to each of our friends’ houses— “Wanda last,” she insists, “to give her time to put the kids to bed”—and then to the nightclub Natasha likes.

The club is nice— the whole place looks like the inside of a lava lamp— but it’s full to the brim with sweating, drunk, scantily-clad people who all seem to feel entitled to touch everyone else. I personally don’t have any interest in that sort of thing, especially not this grinding business that looks little better than public dry-humping. Back in the day, I’d be spinning girls all around the dancefloor; I’d keep them on the floor until their feet hurt and even after. Now, though? I wouldn’t be caught dead doing… whatever that stuff is.

Well, if (Y/N) asked for a dance, I’d do my best. Anybody worth their salt would know better than to say no to a dame like her. But the thing is… she doesn’t ask me.

“I’m going to dance for a while,” she yells at me over the sound of the music. “Are you good here?”

“Peachy,” I shout back, propping my feet up on a rung of the barstool I’ve claimed. “Have fun, beautiful.”

Her smile glows in the blue-green light, and then she’s gone with Wanda and Natasha, who seem just as eager to dance.

Out of politeness, Bruce hangs out with me at the bar for a little while and we talk shop— S.W.O.R.D’s research and operations, Steve’s programs there— but it’s clear that he wants to dance as well. Before long, I send him off with a clap on the shoulder for encouragement, and then I’m alone at the bar, sipping surprisingly good whiskey.

A while later, a woman sidles up beside me to order a drink. I turn to look at her. She’s a dark-haired beauty with skin the color of polished bronze and hair like big, dark, fluffy clouds. Her lips are full, and they glitter with reflective golden gloss.

“Hi!” She greets me as we make eye contact. “You’re super handsome, oh my God!”

I blink.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Say, do you wanna dance?”

“No can do. I’m here with my wife.”

The response is automatic. I shock myself with it. For a guy that’s only been married less than forty-eight hours, I’m coming to find that the “nope, I’ve got a wife” instinct sure does kick in fast.

“Oh my bad king! Have a good night!”

She turns to go, but I reach out and grab her arm.

“Wait, wait!” Jesus, fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve got to be the stupidest man alive… but this might just be what I need. “I… think I might need some advice. Do you know stuff about relationships?”

She purses her lips in thought, then nods her head.

“Bad ones, yeah. Good ones, not so much. Also, babe, I’m a little drunk so I dunno how useful I’ll be to you right now.”

“That’s fine.” Reconnaissance, I tell myself. This is just simple reconnaissance. “You mind if we talk a minute?”

“I don’t mind at all! Yap away!”

I tell her the important bits and leave out the stuff she probably shouldn’t know.

“Like I said, I just feel like I barely know her anymore, but I… I want to try and make it better. She’s good to me, and I want to be good to her. Plus, the chemistry is…” I think back to that sly smile, the press of her thighs against mine. “Off the charts. I just wanna be the man she fell in love with.”

Lani— that’s my new friend’s name— nods thoughtfully.

“And you say you’ve only been back stateside for a couple days?”

I nod and feel a little guilty using someone else’s war for my white lie. Still, though, I don’t know what all my excuses would consist of if there was only peacetime in recent years.

“Then this is just relationship throat-clearing,” Lani tells me confidently, throwing back the shot I bought her. “Ack— that’s strong. But yeah, it’s just a phase. If you wanna speed stuff up, I recommend physical touch. Not the sex kind, you understand— just hold her. Your bodies have probably done a little forgetting even if your minds haven’t. Might be a good idea to start there.”

“But how do I initiate it without coming off.. weird?”

Lani and I talk for a long time. I lose track of how long. Before I know it, it’s been two hours, and I look up to realize that I haven’t seen my wife in that amount of time. I look around, but I don’t see her.

“Don’t worry,” Lani is telling me, “You seem like a good guy, and you’re trying. If she loves you, you’ll work it out just fine.”

A weird look comes over her face, and she adds, “Besides, if I’m guessing correctly… she’s definitely still burning hot for you, king, so good luck out there.”

I turn back to her and thank her sincerely. She pats me on the shoulder and thanks me in turn for the drinks. It’s only right, she insists, that her bad experiences should serve to help someone else prevent them. With that, she’s off, and I’m sitting by myself once more.

Tired now, but armed with a good strategy, I stand, stretching my legs. I scan the dancefloor for my wife, but I don’t see her in the immediate vicinity. When I do catch sight of her, I wish I hadn’t— her eyes are all molten fury as she squishes her way through the crowd of dancing bodies. Whatever has happened tonight, she’s not happy about it, that’s for damn sure. Still determined to act on the advice I was given, I start to make my way toward her, but before I can get very far, I see someone grab my wife’s arm and yank— hard. She stumbles, and I catch sight of the person who’s holding her.

It’s a man. A large, scruffy-looking man with a look of trouble about him.

I start to shove through people faster.

(Y/N) tries to snatch her arm back, fails. She’s clearly a bit drunk, and stumbles when he yanks her over to him. I’m two strides away, but not close enough to help before the situation explodes.

My wife, full of righteous fury from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, rares back and punches the guy straight in his ugly face.

He lets her go then, but people start screaming and the crowd jostles me away from her. I’m trying very hard not to lose my patience and start swinging my elbows— I could kill someone like that with my level of strength— but I’m starting not to care as I watch her use her fists like hammers on the guy’s skull. I’ve seen shit like this among soldiers before, back in the day. She’s drunk, she’s angry— and, judging by how long she lasted against me sparring, she’ll catch a fucking manslaughter charge if I don’t intervene soon.

I scream her name above the din, but she doesn’t hear me. Her knee connects with Ugly Guy’s nose, and I finally break free from the people-prison that had me trapped.

“Hey!” I call out to her, reaching for her arm. “Baby, hey, he’s had it, okay, you made your—”

She whirls on me, and I catch hell in the form of a cupped hand smacking painfully against my ear.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” she snarls at me, vicious and cruel. “I’m not done here.”

Oh, but she is. I can be every bit as vicious and every bit as cruel as she can be, and I prove it by grabbing her from the back and putting her in a metal-armed headlock.

“Stand down, babygirl,” I growl close to her ear. “You don’t want to kill him.”

“I do,” she confesses darkly, struggling vainly against me. “I want his bleeding heart in my hands!”

“Then not here, not now.” Bouncers have finally noticed the commotion— too late, sadly. They’re heading for us, but I keep my voice level and calm. “Behave or I swear to God I won’t let anyone bail you out of jail.”

“You have no right to command me!” She thrashes in my arms like a trapped animal. “Let me go, asshole!”

“I have every right.” I tighten the lock.

“Says… who?”

“Says this.” I tighten my arm more, and she wheezes like a squeaky toy with the squeaker ripped out. “Now behave. I don’t wanna go to jail.”

And, let’s be real— if that stupid, ugly fuck decides to raise his hand to her even in self defense, it’ll be both of us sitting in a jail cell. I’d kill him for it.

I let her go then, and she stumbles, clutching at her throat and gasping for air. I feel an instant flash of regret, but I have no time to process it before I’m gathering her in my arms and promising the bouncers that we didn’t start it, but that we’re leaving so as not to cause more trouble. They look at us skeptically, but decide that we’re apparently not worth the trouble and send us on our way.

Natasha and Bruce catch up with us at the doorway. They saw the whole thing, apparently, and had the same trouble I did with trying to reach (Y/N) before she caused more trouble for herself and us.

“You guys go on home,” says Natasha, a strange look in her eyes. “We’ll catch up with Wanda and we’ll all get an Uber home when we’re ready.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, desperate for an answer in the affirmative.

“Yes, we’re sure,” Bruce says, placing a reassuring hand on my wife's shoulder. “We all get mad sometimes— and sometimes, we all need a break.”

If Bruce Banner tells you that you need to take a chill pill, you take one.

And so that’s how my wife and I end up parked in our garage, staring straight ahead at the wall in absolute silence. I’m lost in thought, pondering how such a promising evening went to shit so fast, when (Y/N) breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry I hit you.” Her voice wavers a bit. “And that I called you an asshole. I was just so mad…”

She’s fighting tears. I want to stretch out my hand to her, but I don’t know that the gesture would be welcome.

“S’okay. You had a right to be mad at that guy. He was a total creep.”

She shakes her head.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t mad at him. I mean, I was, but not initially.”

I turn to her, but she’s staring straight ahead, jaw clenched. With great effort, I keep my voice gentle.

“What happened? Why were you angry, then?”

Her lower lip trembles.

“I really don’t want to talk about this right now, Bucky.”

It’s not the answer I wanted, but it is an answer I will accept.

“That’s okay. We’ll talk about it later.” I think for a minute, then add, “Also, I’m sorry for putting you in a headlock and then insinuating that I have a right to order you around.”

She huffs a laugh.

“I deserved it. All you did was keep me from making a pretty big mistake.”

“Still,” I insist, “I was meaner than I would have liked, and rougher too. I’m sorry.”

“Bucky, please don’t apologize— not for this. It was the right call.”

“But I am sorry it had to happen that way. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

To my shame, there is still a red line at her neck where my arm pressed against it. It’s not bruised or anything, but the mark itself shames me.

My wife turns to me, rigid and acerbic. She says,

“James Buchanan Barnes, I have begged on my actual knees for the same thing you did this evening and worse for my own, selfish… lascivious reasons. When I tell you that no apology is necessary, I mean it. You have nothing to apologize for. No touch from you could ever be too rough for me.”

The implication she just made— that she enjoyed being in a headlock, that she… gets off on that rough and ready side of me— lays heavily between us.

I’m utterly speechless.

“Ugh, I’m still fucking drunk,” she groans. “Don’t listen to me. I’m going to bed.”

She clambers out of the Jeep and makes her way into the house. I sit there for a minute to process, then turn the car off and follow her inside.

By the time I make it in, the water to the main shower is running. With a loose plan in mind, I undress down to my boxers and slip between the covers of our shared bed adjacent to the bathroom and wait for her to finish.

Then my hearing picks up on something I’m not supposed to hear— a whispered phone call that is meant to be masked by the running water of the shower, but isn’t.

“I don’t know, Shuri.” My wife is saying, her voice thick with tears. “He may wake up tomorrow and remember everything. No, the tests won’t be back for— oh stop that, you know we don’t have Wakanda’s resources. No, I don’t think international travel is a good— Shuri! Listen to me, he’s okay. Why am I so emotional then? Why do you think! Because— ” there is a pause, a shuddering breath, then, “Well, I’ve made a fool of myself. Oh, Shuri, what a jealous fool I’ve been!”

(Y/N) recounts the evening as she remembers it, and I am horrified to discover her version of events. Right off the bat, I apparently managed to fuck up by not wearing my wedding ring— apparently she saw that as a sign of rejection and not the show of respect I had intended it to be. That pain, of course, exacerbated the jealousy she describes to Shuri as me openly flirting with and buying drinks for a hot, drunk chick— a jealousy that she thinks she doesn’t even have a right to feel because I’m no longer hers— or at least that’s what she thinks I seem to think.

This account paints me in a terrible light indeed. I feel physically ill listening to all of my actions being laid out and twisted into something they were never meant to be.

“I can’t even be mad at him, Shuri,” she cries, a terrible, aching sound that wrenches my heart and roils in my gut. “It’s not his fault— he doesn’t even know me. And— I mean, yeah, I know he saw the ring ‘cause he had on the necklace, so he had to have looked in— ugh, don’t distract me! My point is, what if he never remembers? He— he may want to leave. No, I won’t stop him— I want him to be happy, even if it’s not with me. I just— I love him, Shuri. If he leaves, it will break my heart.”

I keep listening , but those words bounce around in my brain.

If he leaves, it will break my heart.

“I don’t even think he thinks I’m pretty anymore. When he saw me in my cute little dress— you know, the gold one with the pockets?— he looked up at the ceiling as if he’d rather look at anything else. Oh, Shuri, it’s over. It’s hopeless!”

It’s all I can do not to bust the bathroom door down and correct every misconception she has. Instead, I bide my time, resting my eyes and my body as she finishes her phone call and her shower. She needs this time and space, so I give it to her until the water shuts off and she makes her way to the bedroom where I lay in apparent sleep.

(Y/N) steps softly up to the bed, then hesitates. I’m willing to bet she’s contemplating sleeping in the guest room. Without opening my eyes, I say,

“Don’t be shy. There’s plenty of room.”

Gingerly, she climbs into bed. She settles as far from me as she can get— an admittedly respectful distance in a circumstance such as this one. Still, I’m unsatisfied.

“You can stay there if you’d like,” I tell her, “but I’ll feel terrible if you fall off.”

She doesn’t move. It’s remarkable how quiet her crying is, but I can feel the sadness radiating off of her in waves.

I sit up.

“Hey.” I open my arm— the metal one— up to her. “Come here.”

She shakes her head.

“You don’t have to do this, Bucky,” she sniffles. “You— you’re really not obligated to comfort me. If anything, I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

“Why?” I ask. “I’m not the one who’s lost anything. From where I’m sitting, I’ve only stood to gain. I have a home, friends, and a beautiful wife where I used to have none of those things. But you… you’ve lost a husband.”

She covers her face with her hand, and I take it upon myself to close the distance between us. I pull her to me, and she buries her face in my chest while she cries.

“I’m sorry,” she says, over and over. “I’m sorry…..”

I soothe her as best I can. I rub circles into her back and hold her close. When she shifts awkwardly, I grab Kleenex from the nightstand and let her blow her nose. The whole time, I take Lani’s advice and don’t let her get more than three inches away from me.

When she’s calmer, I begin to speak. I start with what I feel should be the most obvious fact that she has misunderstood.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” I tell her firmly, brushing hair away from her face. “I’ve seen a lot of women in a lot of places all around the world and even outside of it, and to me, you beat the hell out of all of them. When I saw you in that dress, it was all I could do to keep my hands off of you and go back to whatever it was we were doing in the basement earlier.”

My wife blinks owlishly. I don’t wait for her to respond before I press on.

“But,” I continue, “I kept my hands to myself because I haven’t earned that yet. I’m stumbling in the dark here with no clue what I’m doing— I’m not the man you married. At least, not yet. But I’m trying to be. I want to be him. That’s why I didn’t wear my wedding ring. I wanted to be worthy of it— worthy of you— before I put it on. In retrospect, I’m realizing I must have seemed like an asshole by not wearing it— even further from the man you know and love.”

“Oh Bucky,” she sighs, tears streaming down her face, “you really are the man I married, even if you don’t know it, you sneaky, conniving, eavesdropping bastard. You listened to my phone call with Shuri, didn’t you?”

I turn pink from the top of my chest to the tips of my ears.

“That depends on how mad you’ll be if I say yes.”

She lets out a snotty giggle that’s stupidly cute.

“S’what I get for marrying an assassin and a spy,” she smiles through her tears. “Go on, dear— you might as well finish up. You’d better have a jam-up excuse for letting that girl fawn over you all night, or I’ll still be cross with you.”

I shrug.

“That one’s easy. I was asking her for advice about you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She’s quiet for a long time after that. I keep handing her tissues and she keeps blowing her nose until the fount of her tears finally dries up.

“So?” I probe gently, taking her hand in mine, “Am I forgiven?”

“Of course.” She squeezes my hand. “It’s me who should be asking for forgiveness— I should have trusted you to start with.”

I shake my head with a grin.

“My wife can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned. Even when she does something wrong, I’ve got to assume that it’s my fault somehow.”

“Bucky,” she laughs. I lean my forehead against hers and decide to press my luck.

“Can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to since we sparred earlier, and I think it would go a long way towards soothing any ruffled— mph.”

Her lips are soft against mine. She kisses me once, twice— and then I deepen the kiss, adjusting our bodies until my hand is threaded through her hair, forming a cup around her skull as we kiss deeply, unhurriedly, as though we have all the time in the world. Her hands roam and so do mine, and in this slow, sensual exploration, I am completely, utterly lost.

Selfishly, I want more. I want to pull my wife into my lap and let her feel what she does to me— I want to kiss and touch her and make her feel good— but Lani had advised me against this temptation.

“If you give in too soon, somehow sex and intimacy become the same thing, which… they aren’t,” she’d told me. “She needs one much, much more than the other, and I’ll give you a hint— it’s not sex. Trust me, even if it feels right in the moment, it won’t later. It’ll feel transactional. That's the worst possible outcome, ‘cause when it comes down to it, there’s always a better deal somewhere else. Give her safety, though, and she’ll always be yours.”

So that’s what I do. I hold her and kiss her and touch her until she’s tired, and then I tuck her into my chest and wait until her breathing evens out to close my own eyes and sleep.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst

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